There among all the shadowed houses
Withers one who dynamited reason in the service of a dream
With vague potential still unseen
Underneath all the weight of what
Was issued from the lips of one whose
Promises were whimsical and heedlessly designed
Bathed in silence there are two springs
You can choose from
There is one that is bleakness
While the other one is bright
Which one will you drink from tonight?
All the thresholds and all the ways and wonders
While sometimes not a movement but a passage through a fire
In this odd season of the heart
And the color, weight and shape, time and placement of your dream
They are somewhere that you cannot quite conceive of just now
And the promiser has changed
Discontinued the agreed upon equations and has pushed you from the car
They will falter or go far
While some brightness lifts you out from your burrow
You are graced by such a clarity you had not known before
In this odd season of the heart
And it all had been there from the start