To Share A Sunrise
by Michael Doyle

All things in their time, stay partly the same.
It's as if living in some cosmic sort of game.
Though in appearances, all seem to rearrange,
As time moves on, we find things virtually unchanged.

Dredging up  the fragments of archeology,
We can guess at what has happened in history
Of all the things that have been left behind
As the rains erase them one by one from our minds.

Italian feels to be the language of fine romance,
As here and there as we dance our countless dances.
Is it better to speak from our hearts or simply die?
The princess looks through her mask, hinting at her reply.

Each of us is stumbling through the best of our mumbles
As we watch time quietly shift as it crumbles.
It's funny how our moments whisper at hoped for eternity
As if like Roman statues, we might know our immortality.

The things that I speak of that might consequently matter,
Speak of a world once strong that has now shattered.
There is a sordid pricelessness to all this clatter
Shared between us as if all this could possibly have mattered.

Old country roads can seem to go on endlessly into forever.
We dare to dream together, thinking ourselves ever so clever.
We say so much, too much perhaps, without saying anything,
Knowing that we must never again speak of this nothing.

Transpired with every look, shared touches are not nothing.
Told as truth, these have a habit of becoming our everything.
The everything we keep to ourselves in our wicked silence.
Afraid as we are that our worlds breed their own violence.

Until it is that we dared to do the deed and finally kiss,
And just as suddenly, I learn and know what I'd miss.
I look into the depths of your brilliant, mesmerizing eyes,
Wondering if we will ever come to sharing our sunrise.

Just as casually, my soul shakes as I start to bleed,
Lost as I am to be caught inside my hidden need.
Your touch helps me in ways I cannot speak or truly know.
All I ask of you is simple: please never let go. 

(c) September 27, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved