December 6, 2014 by babylondogs
You, with mad wings, dart and course
along heretical tangents,
never ceasing to conform with the
flight patterns of the flock.
I haven’t found you yet,
but faith tells me you’re out there,
at a reachable distance,
chaotic but capable,
a creature undiscovered and resistant
to easy labels.
At night, exhausted with my search,
I drift into invisible possibilities,
and for an uncertain moment
I’m encouraged that you are there with me,
a deranged but lovable something-or-rather,
looking for me
just as I am looking for you.