Sitting in the future;
That I prayed for
decades ago-
Was it 15
10
8
5
Or perhaps a year back,
Or was it yesterday?

Sitting in the future;
From a continuum of days
When I was livin’ on a prayer-
Broken only by a streak of blur
of futile undertakings;
Assured
Of the providence of fate.

Have no doubts,
The promises came true.
The seeds planted-
Grew into trees,
Blossomed into flowers,
And bore fruits-
Sweet as sugar,
ripe as June.

But the shade thick as a brick
Doesn’t block the sun,
The storm,
Or the rain

And

The fruits are fruits-
The taste doesn’t latch to the tongue
But fades
Quicker than one imagined.

And the flowers wither.

Sitting in the future,
Under the tree.
The grass under my feet
Is wet from nostalgia,
that lurks in vicinity
“Tread carefully,” a voice calls out.

Fireflies light up the night,
More than stars ever could.
The earthly breeze sifts through my hair,
But I don’t notice

For I am
Sitting in the future,
Under the tree I planted
Decades ago;
Waiting for tomorrow to come.