The Optimist

Direct me to a place where I
Can express myself freely;
Where I can walk into glass
Doors without embarrassment,
Or roll down a lilac covered hill
And not care about mud
Smearing my shirt and pants.

I am not delusional; I am merely
Optimistic. How can I not be
When everyday I am surrounded
By waves of raw emotion I
Created by bending sound
And light around my waist like a rope?

I tossed its slack to you,
Across the miles that separate
Us. You caught it. I assumed
You would attach it to your chest,
So that I would be tethered
To you. I’m still hoping you’ll do so.

Copyright 2012
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen