Outlines

Hidden in plain sight,

The world is an outline

Of shapes I used to know.

Like pulling ribbon,

All of a sudden

The curtains draw back slow.

Though I've been distracted,

I am caught up in static

No more.

Garden of eden,

Lower your branches

For another year.

I'm dust, unsettled

Until they reappear.

Though my hands are prone

To trial and error,

I'm crossing my fingers

For something to hold.

I can't help but hope for brighter,

Here in the shadows of letting go.

God, may these good intentions

Be the outline of so much more.

When I breathe, from now on,

I'll mean it more than ever I did before.