When the cold of winter is settling in,
when distracting normality is gone for a moment,
when the only noise left is the buzz of the television
and the dragging of feet on carpet,
and when I am here in my dark kitchen alone…
When I am faced with nothing more than myself,
I remember the things beyond the material.
Flesh is nothing for a moment,
and the happy soul is all to recall.
When I remember flesh,
I wish for nothing.
When I remember a kindred spirit,
I wish for yesterdays to return
and oceans to disappear.
© Blake Leitch July 3, 2015