• Lorraine Johnson

#14 At My Door

If I was to gather all my thoughts

and blow them out to sea

it would be to you, my unknown you,

who I share my deepest me

you who wanders the earth in search of me

and I who meanders,

in search of you.


Who are you? Where do you rest?

In the gentle cool breeze that lingers just a little too long on a hot summer day,

With the sun that lands warmly on my face, emerging from the mist of an endless rain

As the bird that chirps outside my window sharing space and time

or the tree that grows strong and tall, or perhaps the flowers,

free and flowing in the late hours of a falling day?


Is this where I am to find you, my unknown you,

as I await ever so patiently for you to reveal yourself, to me.


My hair is graying, my skin is drying, and the memories fading

Please hurry, before the bright light begins to unveil itself

and the distant song of sweetness beckons at my door.

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Thank you for lingering with me—just a bit.

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