Held away and stolen from an affair.
I was given time to trace the romance.
Could she feel my pensiveness?
Questions arrived with the beckoning of a blue jay.
Personal insight was not my best feature at the time.
But the fog had ceased without rebellion.
I had changed.
Without the desire to chase her uncertainty,
I had been awarded the shrill of a Jay.
“Slow down!” cried the jay, “Look!”
From that day, I can glance back.
I can see into my present.
When the fog drifts in, a breeze of insight is there.
I will not be afraid to follow the flow of my purpose.
I can live.
And I can live without her scoff for the errors in my wake.
The future is my purpose.
Let it be humbled by the Jay.