Here I Am

Here I am.
I call to you 
From the other side 
Of nowhere
But you busy yourself
With something or other, 
Lost in the thing
That draws you onward,
The carrot, held out,
Ever promising
Ever disappointing,
Leaving you breathless, 
Forsaken by that which
You think you see
Beyond the mist.
But you are looking 
In the wrong direction.
You will not find me there.
All the same,
I do what I can
And you are not wholly alone,
For I sneak in
Between your fits of "inspiration"
And it is I 
That wraps you up 
In the warmth of summer days
And pillows you 
In the leaves that fall 
From my branches.
It is my perfume 
That scents your memories
And it is me
That you recall
When the mountain breezes 
Waft across your desk
And loose you
In the reveries
Of hapless, childlike days,
Before you knew desire.
I miss you,
More than you know.
And I know that you believe
You are forsaken,
But you are not.
For here I am,
Gazing upon you,
Loving you
Trusting you 
To all your busy causes.
And when 
You have worn yourself out
In seeking,
I will be here
To welcome you you home
To all you were 
And will be
Before you thought to improve
​Upon my creation.