Recurring Thought

Photo credit: Kieran James Cunningham

When there’s no song I feel like singing,
I think of you.
When the floor has fallen from the world,
And the solace of words won’t do
I close my eyes and think of you.

When this world’s too big, too small,
Too something more or less than perfect,
Or this life’s too short, too long,
Too far from empty or something short of full,
I find peace, at last,
If I can only think of you.

When long days meet short ends
And borrowed time builds fragile amends
I summon no complaint, no grievance,
No malcontentment to rue,
Should I
Lay down my head and only think of you.

When hope escapes me,
And faith is but flight
From fact,
I console myself
In memory’s nape
With the thought what the world looked like,
Before I could think of you.