The Third Coming

You miss someone
in lands where once
spontaneity had a memory,
an echo of sameness,
a dark, delicious giving in .
It's an odd missing...for,
beyond all eternities,
you finally know
the meaning of forever .
And you miss someone,
 feel the welling, the stab,
in ocean eyes of loss,
your bit of grit, the only
pearl in your oyster.
It's an odd missing ,coz'
beyond all tears ,
smiling thru' mists ,you know
the meaning of now.
Between now and forever
pants the nomad ,
my wandering Oisin,
the climactic moment......