Do you ever wake with a keen impression of Imminence?
Last night the sky was like a gate that closed over the landscape, stealing in its deftness another day, drawing us ever closer to the Unknowns that yet wait...
The presence of an essence that we cannot full descry
Invades and intercepts the hellos of life with good-bye
For what we cannot know or see could be life’s best or worst
Thus, at the mercy of its mystery we are blessed-cursed
The paradise that wanton lies beyond thought’s thin caress
Soft-tests the air where wistful sighs ignite the quietness
And we are starved half-beggars of that thing we cannot see
Yet spared a constant sorrow by the hope of what might be
Come darling, we should slow dance where the impact of Unknown
Plays darkness like a violin; no one should dance alone
Where Imminence is Maestro, and the music that awaits
Would leave us breathless save for Now, the bow on Unknown’s gates
© Janet Martin