Had I not been so blinded by searching
I might have stumbled upon
exactly what I needed
far sooner than I did.
It's like with love,
it comes when you aren't looking for it.
It's like with happiness,
it appears when you ignore it.
A gently bubbling fountain
in a deserted garden square at dusk
may lack the same denotation of
a zen garden,
but the experience here outweighs the old memory
by the same magnitude
as electric and gravitational forces.
Metal herring perch in metal reeds
and ask to be lulled
by amateur poetry.
My heart leaps as ripples mirror the figure of a man
and I hope my life might become a movie scene
for a brief moment.
A thousand ideas bubble in the time it takes to look up
and discover the illusion.
So love alludes me.
So happiness flees.
So what?
Search brought blistered feet
while wandering brought serenity.
Flirtation brings crushed hopes
while alienation sparks poetry.
So the sky is cloudy.
So the air is cold.
So what?
I find more comfort
on chilling granite
than in the sea of voices and warmth.
My body runs cold.
My mind runs cold.
Let me ice my heart.
Let me bathe it in this freezing fountain
while my soul escapes through forgotten tears.
For any tears that would fall
would ice on my cheeks,
and someone might ask questions.
And still I long for warmth?
For arms to hold me,
body heat to comfort me,
eyes to beg,
“What is wrong, darling?”
Warm, loving eyes
that expel heat wherever they look,
melting hearts of ice in their gaze.
And still I long for eyes to look upon me
and to warm my drowning heart,
let it bubble as a liquid in that freezing fountain.
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