No Hearts, Ashes

I trace my steps through time,
In the fabric of my mind,
Seeing every one misplaced,
Which bought me this, my fate.
Yet, knowing, I could scarcely –
Change what action wrought,
Over time, without some miracle,
Not given thought, to be mine.
I offered what I am and who
But would not be accepted,
For the progression of others
Recollected over years who
In near perfection, which now
Cannot be laid aside because
Time jealous contains its magic –
Until certain days flow past.
My steps thereby slowed apace,
Each one wary and carefully placed
That I might avoid entrapment
In the boggles, bungles of love –
Life’s treacherous quicksand.
Still, I love, remain with hope –
Not intruding; quiet, deep enduring,
But always willing, a phoenix to rise.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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