Lost and Found

There was a second when I felt like you weren't there
and just when I became scared you appeared.
Behind the half moon in the sky out in the mountains
where the marine layer finally dissipated, I saw you.

As a constant, you assured me that you had never left...
but I just wasn't looking hard enough.
Daily mundane tasks seem to overcome passion
and sometimes life, but that doesn't mean that you have to die.

Last night there was knocking on the wall,
four simple knocks that let me know that there was
someone there and while initially frightening,
the experience was comforting as well because I now understood existence.

And in the next day, I stood on the platform
with no one there but my thoughts and the crow that had once visited
me before without warning,
and I learned about patience.

The view from the station is something that I would write about
and I could quite honestly sit there on that wooden bench
forever if it meant that I would gain more
wisdom if I did.

For better or for worse we grow old and the only
thing that we can be assured of is our purple turned gray,
a shade of red and blue not less perfect but faded a bit
and still beautiful nonetheless.

And like this bench on the beach created out of muck,
sprouts a lotus more spectacular than it's upbringing;
so unsuspecting it is.
Matriarchal and judicious.

However, with comfort comes complacency and normalcy
and with what I thought once was lost and unobtainable
I have realized that I have found
myself and that you are there with me as well.