If I could spread an eagle's wings,
let loose this heart of clay so hardened.
Let skies part where hope still sings,
where loves finds me before unknown seas.
The hands of the clock are pardoned,
and mine should your heart please.
And my heart longs for any word,
if only it be yours, for my foolish days.
Know that it will be carefully heard,
despite all my foolish ways, I will still wait.
Thoughts fade, into the distant haze,
waiting for this loneliness to abate.
And so like a hero without a cape,
so are all my intentions thus disguised.
Yet outcomes cast a stranger shape,
leaving life confused, and my heart with it.
Always again, my words so ill advised,
each betrays good intent within it.
From a beautiful night of spring,
I address you again, pleading my cause.
Be this serious or but a trifling thing,
all I can say to you is but the heartfelt word.
While many words give reason to pause,
I pray now for those so rarely heard.
Dear friend, I am so sorry this day,
be certain that I'm here for you always.
For the words I said and did not say,
I am sorry I was not listening with my heart.
Much might we cherish for all our days,
should friends choose to never part
Brian Francis Hudon
February 19, 2017