There are those gentle sleepy suicidal dreams
from which you can never awaken reborn.
Embedded like soft gelled inserts
in the soul of a favorite pair of shoes,
cushioning every step without so much
as a tongue’s worth of mentioning
that the many rough roads you have traveled
may all lead to a much more desirable end
than destinations first perceived.
Results are always most certainly different
when Life’s many equations are finally solved;
none of us are ever given all of the unknowns.
Having first to live out every precious moment allowed….
2008 © T S
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sleeping-on-a-blade-of-grass/
