At Dream's End Poem by Christopher Thor Britt

My heart travels the wind. Will it find all that it seeks?
Time may hold the answer but may never speak
A slave to the fickle breeze, enthralled by its every whim
It blows emotion to and fro knowing not where to begin
Where is my rose? Where can she be?
In silence, I’m tormented by a future yet unseen
I knew you once in realm of dreams and freely we did soar
But when the night, in err, did fall, I lost the key to your door
Fruitless, my designs have proved and errant the path behind
Still I knock with prayers in hand, forgiveness there to find
Until on virgin ground we meet, or at anger’s end
I wait here ‘neath your lintel yet with hope to dream again