Fool’s Gold

He tried to find the right words,

not knowing he was digging
into a chest of fool’s gold.
Clarity or creativity was not his forte.

A sanitized lie would have
been better, or a repeated fable,
rumor or piety-ladened prayer,
less bleak or bland to the ears.

How does time console or comfort
one who has never been optimistic?
Tears held for so many reasons,
released – a dam’s flood gate stuck open.

They say when the sky and vast water
trade places on the horizon –
it changes one’s destination from
a map for a wrong voyage.

Unfortunately, even a light can only
create hope that you can inhabit time,
in a most intimate, loving way.
May it be infused with happiness.

Don’t let the magnitude of fear usurp
the mind’s silent way and beliefs,
but clear out shadows of human doubt.
She knew life was only personal in death