Swirling in the desert,
	Whirling in my mind,
	Crying for release,
	Around me--
	Cold, empty nothingness
	Aching to be filled
	With love,
	With life.
	Her smiles cry out
	In the nowhere
	Of my mind,
	Longing to shine sun-rich
	Into eyes
	Too dry to cry.
	She wants to be wanted,
	Wants to need
	Him who
	Can only dream
	Her shadow.
	She wants to be real,
	Softly solid,
	Warmly winsome,
	Lovingly laughing
	For all the world to hear.
	Her arms
	Long to enfold
	Men, boys, children, dogs--
	Anything warm and real.
	But mind-stuff
	Cannot burst skull-walls
	No matter
	How paper-thin
	And brittle are the bones.
	So we wander
	She within, I without,
	Each yearning
	To become whole
	With the other.


© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

Previous Poem Return to poem list. Next Poem