To touch the wind with my curiosity.
To dodge the contempt of the small minded fellow.
To dislodge the injustice of sloth in my profession.
To snuff the candle in the morning and light it in the darkness.
To usher strangers from darkness to darkness, or to turn them back to life.
To live my days in such a way,
that none will know or care
in years to come,
what I have done.
then wonder why I'll die.
The old man's face turns so pale.
Then he breathes his last.
He lived until lights out.
And then life goes on.
Crippling, Angry.
Grips, Holds, Hates.
The Grave, The Tear; The Joy, The Sun.
Frees, Releases, Unties
Inspiring, Brightening.
Acceptance.
souls home? Or is it darkness that steals the breath from us as we live? One whisper of the wind, in any case, becomes a gale in the heart of the bereaved. One passes, many remain. One sleeps, many awaken to the terror of lonliness, and hear the howl just on the other side of the window. Is the mourning for the loss, or for the realization of the inevitable mortality that loosens our shingles one by one, while it always threatens to blow down the house with one final gust?
I'm not ready and I become
scared.
Sometimes, life giggles.
I don't understand and I become
curious.
Sometimes, life cries.
I can't console, and I become
angry.
Sometimes, life stops.
I'm not expecting and I become
confused.
Rolled down Northeast Drive. My thoughts and worry
were interrupted by the cue
of carefree children rolling down the side
of a hill
while others at the top of the hill
jumped up and down with glee and screams.
Little do they know about owing
income taxes to the IRS and mortgages.
I kept driving.
Stopped in traffic at a light on the highway
I glance over at the activity
in a puddle left around a
leaking fire hydrant.
Twenty starlings splashed as they
bathed with a joyous fervor only a
bird can have at the onset of
inflated oil prices and war.
Little do they know about Smallpox and gas prices.
paperwork, due in five minutes.
and rushed back out to my car and went to get something
to eat.
I drove the speed limit while cars
rushed past me on either side.
Little do they know about statistics
of endangerment, and the sight of babies from car crashes in the
ICU at the regional trauma center.
I realize soon that it is bedtime.
Another day has been ushered past me.
There is no turning back of the clock.
But I can't sleep. I have not
taken a vacation in a couple of years.
I am just a couple more from middle age.
I am predisposed to several medical
conditions, from any of which I could die
eventually.
Little do I remember, lately, about
living.