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Description
tomorrow exists within the confines of a sonnet.
it sings to me sweetly, calming words which reflect
the promise of the days to come.

and i can smile,
   and i can look to the stars
and sense the wonder of a child again
as i ponder simpler questions
   with grander implications

such as, why do the heavens, in their glorious expanse
seem to engulf me in a blanket of stars?
is it because the night sky panorama is somehow
larger, or because i see myself in a portrait
and know, one being cannot exist by himself?

why is it that when i behold
  something as ordinary as the moon
i can see the portal to the horizon
    and revel in the wind with
      humble appreciation?

the combination of particles blowing through my hair
is the combination of voices chanting out, leading me
toward paradoxes and puzzles, symphonies and soliloquies,
patiently awaiting the dawn to dream of dances

     and partners
         and hope and peace
             and simple tranquility
        and promise and change
           and the knowledge that the future,
               once so startlingly uncertain
      has now become an open book
        with pages desperate to be filled by us.

i step through the door and into the days which follow
and interlace my fingers with the hand reaching out for mine
knowing that whatever might come, whomever i shall
meet from this day forth, and whatever i shall do...

            ... i do not face it alone.

Description
tomorrow exists within the confines of a sonnet.
it sings to me sweetly, calming words which reflect
the promise of the days to come.

and i can smile,
   and i can look to the stars
and sense the wonder of a child again
as i ponder simpler questions
   with grander implications

such as, why do the heavens, in their glorious expanse
seem to engulf me in a blanket of stars?
is it because the night sky panorama is somehow
larger, or because i see myself in a portrait
and know, one being cannot exist by himself?

why is it that when i behold
  something as ordinary as the moon
i can see the portal to the horizon
    and revel in the wind with
      humble appreciation?

the combination of particles blowing through my hair
is the combination of voices chanting out, leading me
toward paradoxes and puzzles, symphonies and soliloquies,
patiently awaiting the dawn to dream of dances

     and partners
         and hope and peace
             and simple tranquility
        and promise and change
           and the knowledge that the future,
               once so startlingly uncertain
      has now become an open book
        with pages desperate to be filled by us.

i step through the door and into the days which follow
and interlace my fingers with the hand reaching out for mine
knowing that whatever might come, whomever i shall
meet from this day forth, and whatever i shall do...

            ... i do not face it alone.