Maybe there is nothing more than
Out upon the terrace of your heart.
The miracles that might have been at one time
Have long since found a reason to depart.
Each day must be itself a new redeemer
Returned to bring you home to inner joy.
'Tis the long-held habit of the dreamer
Simply to let sunshine spirits buoy.
Destiny does not decree one's music
As one has always ample chance to choose it,
Yet cherishing what nothing can destroy.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.