excerpt from POTS From Galilee: An Interactive Journal
Sitting, wrestling, plagued by the memories
of a time, which in my heart, remain so dear.
A time when in my arms I held you close,
and I felt your warmth ever near.
It was a slow, gentle kiss which litigated my mind,
defending that your presence was in actuality, real.
As the rush of utter joy and excitement, penetrated my being,
submerged my ambitions, and replaced all that I should feel.
Yet, those times, however brief, consume my very core,
enabling me to clearly see;
the very height and depth, the shear enactment
of just how much you really mean to me.
With every phrase that makes you, you
a smile is wrought, as my sadness fades away.
How I yearn that in time and space
we could forever dwell; forever stay.
Though, I constantly try to woo your heart
through the adoration to you that I dispense.
Alas, fate will not permit,
fore the love I bear is not mutually recompensed.
In rational mind, as time stands still
I understand that I can’t make your love for me ignite.
Yet, I still relentlessly find myself wrestling to abase my emotions,
trying to keep them securely in hindsight.
Whenever you are nigh I must admit
there is still a burning that does commence.
Yet, because I know that I will never have you as my own,
I will trudge on, and in your friendship alone, learn to find contentment.
Myron Krys. “Contentment.” In POTS From Galilee: An Interactive Journal. 101. Decatur: Myron Krys Publishers, 2010.