Soliloquy (Talking to Myself, Again)

Where do I begin?
I’m lost again in rainy days
Giving their way to quiet, yawning nights,
Staring into space and yearning for an embrace
That will be mine to keep.

I’ve worked hard and kept my head down,
hoping for more than reward, perhaps a crown,
But love is not merely fruit of ambition and vanity:
It’s a rare treasure, well-sought, and more so
Rarely found.

I’ve gone through many meandering mazes,
Being taken to the strangest of places,
Sitting staid in the silence of the sanctuary,
Begging for God to answer my prayers,
Nights lying awake, food left on the plate
Filled with anticipation, expectation.

Though I was neither a mouse nor a man,
I did have grand designs.
And my mother will tell me these days,
“In due time, my son, in due time”
But I swear to God I was yours,
and you were meant to be mine.

I was neither a mouse nor a man,
But what good is the fact?
Those plans for a you, those plans for a me,
—those plans we had for a we,
Well-wrought as they were,
Were never meant to be.
—-They never were.

And so, I’ll tell myself that
As I lay wake tonight and check the time
–it’s a restless 4 AM
And I wonder if love will come, then when?
Or whether I’ll see you again.
On these nights, I’m left but to ask,
“Why does God put hope
Inside the hearts of ill-fated men?”
Just living away their tired days,
Phantoms meant to wither away.

These days are long and these nights are longer
So I wish you’d sing me a song
–or a tired lullaby tune
Because I’d like to sleep soon
–lest I should lie awake, and weep.