This night,
These days-
The dusks and dawns in between-
They unveil an uncanny sense
of what this life contains;
A shuddering sense to sway
To the rhythm of the same
Minimalist caves of solitude-
Wells of ambiance passed unseen
And unheard to sweet whimpers
Of compassion.

Trust held and nurtured.
Comfort swells and falters,
But dependence placed on self
Allows the trudging through
Each and every day to persist.
And forever watching,
and forever waiting.
The fortune of fates
Relates and fortifies bonds yet to surface.

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