Potentially, Maybe

I hope and pray to live in wonder of a new day. 

If I were on an island with nothing but hope,

every sunrise would be a fresh start,

and every night a newer tomorrow. 

I would lie in a tree and wonder

whether love was right around the corner.

Would I be discovered and swept into glitter and glam,

or set adrift without a damn?

I'd build a shack of sticks and straw,

and a budding storm would draw

a love to me. 

Maybe if I sat atop a cliff and stared into the sea, 

a mermaid would point out the monkey in the tree. 

Marking my calendar day by day turns into hour by hour,

and the beating in my mind is the only power. 

I could wish for a hero in buttons and ties,

or a rugged ranger soothing my cries. 

The island is full of romances, filling at an alarming rate,

but I cannot find him for whom I wait.

What if I wrote in the sand with a stack of stones?

Maybe my love would appear to warm my chilled bones. 

Potenially if I burrowed in the sand to sleep,

behind my eyes my love would finally appear,

and with a warm smile, my soul he would reap. 

Potenially. 

Maybe.

Potenially. Maybe.