The evening’s promise

Sometimes, the sky is an irresistible blue,

and the breeze, a tempting embrace.

The silent noises from far away,

calling me to a long walk, a respite after a long day

The cool air, the sights and sounds- a beginning, a promise.

They promise me something, I don't know what,

but the red pump in me gains life from their unsaid words.

Maybe it is the promise of a sight unseen,

Or of a song, unequalled.

Maybe it is a person who I shall meet at the turn of a long road-

who shall change, with a magic sweep of his wand, the world for me.

A flower, a river, a breathtaking hour-

anything to fill this emptiness that swamps me.

 

Sometimes, I give in and walk and walk

but nothing but the orange sun would be.

Fairy tales promise well, but they were tales you see!

And the next time, when the evening invites me,

I give in again and embark in a quest for that hidden delight,

even when knowing what evening conjured for me was only a tantalizing dream.

Yet, I continue to hope

Some day, I will meet evening's prize

And maybe,

maybe, then, everything will be alright!