Isolation

I awoke abruptly,
and rubbed my eyes
with purpose. I thought
it was Sakura and Plum, or
vermillion grasses peeking
through the season's icy
fingers. The omnipresent,
watchful nature of the sun
which reminded me of
perpetual, obvious rebirth.

My eyes were clouded,
so I closed them. It
was too early still, a
golden displacement that
marked my watch, which
told me to wait.

So I sat with the silence
of my thoughts. Suddenly,
my mind whispered, and
I wondered if it were
not the trees, but a
sad dream which I had
forgotten. Just like my
thoughts, it was gone.

My mind wandered to
other hills and valleys,
the favors of eros
and thanatos,
but the depths it had
touched, I was sure. Was
it a lost love, an
unrequited one? An
impossible life, or the lost
chance I had forgotten?
Was I real in the dream,
was I me? 

I arose from my bed, and
took the rigors of the day
and the thought wailed,
softened, and became
a drop in the sea. But,
before I slept, I wondered
if I would again wake too
early.