#535
i put down the novel,
i reach for the pen,
place the remote,
i reach for the pen,
turn from the scroll,
and i reach for the pen,
in it’s scratches i hear the past,
i hear the ocean, i hear the streams,
i hear her words, her laugh, her sighs,
in its lines i see the stars,
i see those unseeable,
i see hope,
i see patterns and chaos,
smell breakfasts, and feasts,
i see the music, i see the lyrics,
i see memory, and God,
i see the quiet, i see the loud,
i see the shame, i see failures,
i reach for my pen,
and i lift the weight,
i roll the stone,
i step, and sway, and step, and sway,
when it all drops down,
when it comes all apart,
i reach for my pen.
#536
The hours insatiable,
their teeth like razors,
they tear and slice
and devour our years,
the gluttony, the greed,
and but i only swim,
i tread, i wait,
sitting between the troughs,
raising with the tides,
oh when the hours come to bite,
i give thanks for the time,
i give thanks to the seconds.
#537
Over the yonder,
into the kitchen
tea waits upon the counter,
it steams and steeps
while i sit and contemplate,
out of reach, a stretch,
a cup of joy just on the cusp,
something still to look forward to
after a long day of work,
after a heavy heart,
and tireless fretting.
And yet upon my couch,
i’m happy waiting,
it sits so close,
it’ll arrive so soon,
warm, soothing, temporary,
as i aspire to be.
#538
These days i’m trying to be more mindful
to look less to the past,
to look forward to what’s arrived,
or is about to,
oh when yesterdays are so treasured,
my tomorrows are still filled with you,
so i’m trying to be more mindful,
i’m trying to hold handfuls of the truth.
#539
Some days it’s not as difficult.
as my mind makes it seem,
some days it’s a little easy,
most days that’s what i need,
i pretend i like to grind,
to reach, to sweat, seize,
but those days they just slip away,
and i don’t get those hours of ease,
i miss the laughs, i miss the smiles,
and the kindness that comes with time,
i miss the lulls in conversation,
were the silences says it all,
so i’ll do my best, to take it slow,
to measure my minutes and hours,
to look up above at the greys and blues,
the moon and her jewelled shelter.
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Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write