Assured

You can't tie things down to just one theme
Even as I try.

There may be a prevailing sound,
But every love song is of every love,
And each regret of all.

I've got this feeling in me that is familiar
And new, refreshed
Restored. Yet it foretells mistakes and disaster
Though they may be excuses.
Let what is meant to be occur – how can we know the movement of the greatest of intentions?

Because even the end of man is beautiful – that grand purpose
The themes we can't see, the world being sung back together
So a love that rises amid… ashes, that's
Not just me. Not just flawed.
It's the voice that has always spoken, that all of this is
Simply the exhalation of those words. The universe
And all creation is a poem.

The red-lamped towers of home, of being nearly there,
Sanctuary boundary lines, even in the darkest and longest of tiring nights
The howl of fixed orange lines – you will return
A broadcast, a reassurance,
That even after it all falls, that our desire for annihilation
So fantasised and wrongly hallowed, the voices of comfort don't cease.

I'm not as obvious as I appear, nor subtle
As I want to be,
Boldness and determination key absences.
I'm being sung back together too. Let me contribute. Do what I can
For the great melody.