The side table sits just where it is. The sounds no more. Every thought sparks the reel of life. One can never quite prepare so it is said. Cloudy thoughts, drifting into nothingness eases the pain in a flash.
He was never quite present. Work was a rather large part of his driven life. Never ever saw him in action.
Dad, to me, was awe and fear back many years ago. On good days, he was playmate. The countless piggy-back rides I recall ever so fondly. Interestingly, I keep returning to the days out in the open field when we went kite-flying. I was barely nine. It was not the fun but the epitome of freedom.
I idle my time away as my pain subsides. I just took my medication. Like a thief in the night, the fever creeps up. I no longer fight it but with patience I greet each momentus grip. Whatever. Saints or sinners, alike we all are. I see the hands of destiny, controlling both space and energy. Soon it will chime for activity. Strapped in beautiful streams of consciousness I abide, obediently I flow with the tides. Is Time mine?
I am grateful I breathe. I strain to pick up the events gone by this wakeful day as I lay. Soon I need to greet my day. A long lasting sway to pray the night away when things do go my way. I have plans. I do. But somehow getting started takes more than a nudge.
Hocus pocus, let me focus! Yeah, that is the best order of this day. Good morning.
Light in sight
- Written by Zany Lynn
- Category: Poetry
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