What Happens Now?

A Poem

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

that lightbulb moment
comes like a question

(and it’s always like this, always like this
until the answer arrives in a flurry)

the waves crash against my senses
again and again and again —
and it feels like breathing
(oh, to breathe clean air again)

the first time,
the very first time,
i’ll reach out,
palm upward

and just wait

what will you do?

and the question
doesn’t have an answer
until i see your eyes brighten
with some spark of imagination

(and i’ll savor it, every bit of it,
no room for tarnished silver
or polished stems of crystal glass)

that first time,
that very first time,
i’ll wait with bated breath
and wonder what it’ll take

to make this madness go away

and i’ll always have this concern
in the back of my head
that you could have done…