Oasis

When I’m the happiest most, I think of you

 

And wonder if it’s wrong to feel these routine pleasures

 

When you, in some desert, are a solitary nomad

 

Treading through changes in the dunes

 

That are beyond your comprehension

 

And in that eternal landscape you have nothing

 

But the oasis that never was

 

To comfort you…

 

Someday, you probably think the oasis

 

Will be yours to claim.

 

But may be not…may be you have moved on

 

Sat atop a drunk camel that could

 

Gallop like a horse, send sand flying around

 

Blinding your vision and mind

 

From any oasis that may for once

 

Really be there…

 

The truth is the oasis, will never move on

 

For it is caught between the planes

 

Of reality and illusion, and knows

 

There will be no one to discover. To claim. To love.