Coming of the Dawn

There is perfection in our lifetimes.
But not in people, or places, or things.
These are moments of perfection.
Some are happy, and some are sad, but all will move you.

With the coming of the dawn, comes clarity
And the ability to see these moments
And to make change.

I walked at dusk, lost and alone, and her light came to me.
Beckoning me into her world, and into her arms.
As the moon rose, I knew her…
The touch of her..
The taste of her..
The scent of her.
Moments of perfection here and there.

Though that dark midnight, she led me to freedom
And to joys untold.

But these moments of perfection were just that.
Fleeting moments passed so quickly
And then erased…
By the coming of the dawn.

As dawn broke, and I smiled at these perfect moments.
Knowing that they were passed.
I mourned their loss.

But dawn brings choice.
And what I had given freely, I now lock down tight.
Never to love, or laugh or care.
For those little perfections, slivers of time…
Are a need within me
And I choose not to live without them.