In The Middle Of The Journey

there is this lag
that one finds in the middle of the journey
you do not quit
but you do not also want to farther go
there is this temptation
to stay where i am
wanting to grab eternity by the hand
and not spill any of
those grains of sand
but as you will know
this is only the temporary plateau
as the sun comes up
on that grassy hill
something in us melts like chocolate
sweetness gone
wasted on the floors of time
solidity spoiled
towers crumple
and then back to basics
sooner we take the walk again
towards that certain
direction.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!