Futility

IF whispers Futility

IF there is to be a Spring
Let the aura of falling leaves
Locked into the sigh of Winter
Fade

IF there is to be a journey
Let the prairies sparkle with an endless sky
Living skies

IF there is to be touch
Let the overlay of raw textures
Old grey seasons
Be forgotten

IF there is to be new memory
Our memory
May the hand of one day
Be near

But IF there are too many “poetic maybes”
There is a whisper

"FUTILITY"