I can’t bring myself
To do
The things I ought to do,
Even ought not to do,
Because I’m stuck,
In a groove of melancholic waiting,
Not really wanting,
Not knowing what to expect,
Or what to anticipate,
In a fast paced
Wait,
Idling in activity that seems so important,
Despite it’s triviality,
In apocalyptic anticipation,
For every moment
It is the end.
Tag: Time
Precious Lasts
There is a loneliness
That resides in our close quarters,
An unspoken sadness,
An anger,
About the fear we speak of
But dare not name,
We are all knowingly closer to death,
And on the precipice, it is terrifying,
To see each other,
And wonder how long we have,
Before the unknown swallows again,
Before our hellos are really goodbyes,
The moments of nothing
Seem wasted,
And yet are our precious lasts,
To be with and be here in
Unleashed
Time it now seems to tick differently,
Though the hands nor numbers have changed,
It seems faster,
More pressing,
Each tock,
For the situation is more dire now,
As if we weren’t always evading the inevitable end,
As if death is only now an option,
We are afraid of this reminder,
For now it is constant,
Encroaching like this very plague,
On all aspects of our lives,
Waking in disbelief that this is reality,
Then try to move through the day that continues to age despite you,
And everything seems a pointless distraction from the fact that this is not normal,
This hovering of fear,
Fear of contagion,
Fear of loss,
Fear of the unknowns,
Of a world held hostage by this virus.
Isolate,
Don’t congregate,
Keep the spread under–
Control has never been had,
And that is our greatest fear,
That no grip will gain hold of this
Unleashed Pandemic,
One Last Heartbeat
Cultural heroes pass in untimely death,
And suddenly how close mortality seems to us all,
A stark reminder that mortality is always a heartbeat away,
And despite this knowledge
Only with loss do we bend to knees and pray,
Not for miraculous everlasting life,
But for enough time while it’s ours,
To do all that is needed to be done,
To make right our actions
To let loved ones know
In word and deed that they are loved
and of their value to our personal existence,
And this all takes time,
Takes heartbeats,
-Thump-
There goes another beat,
Now is always the time,
To do what you would,
If you had just one last
Heartbeat.
The Space Between
Do you get lost sometimes
In the wondering,
If things had gone differently?
If perhaps you and I hadn’t,
Ended?
I do.
But then again I sometimes go back further,
And wonder what if,
We had never been.
–And I wouldn’t want that for the world!
In the time we were ‘us’
I became,
A grown woman,
Found my first real love,
My first real heartbreak,
Became stronger,
Became bolder,
Learned love wasn’t as clear and cut,
As a Hallmark,
I learned love could grow,
Could evolve,
Shift, morph,
Transcend time and space,
Love like ours does that,
Love like ours has its own language,
Love like ours is intangible,
yet it touches every nerve ending,
Pleasure and pain,
Love like ours stays with us,
No matter what we do,
Others might interpret this as guardian seraphim work,
But from what I feel I know it’s you,
We are connected,
No matter the space between,
From our fingers once intertwined,
I am still yours,
As you are mine.
Imminent Moments
So, so far we’ve come,
Through asteroids belts of adversity
To stand a little bit taller,
Nesting in the beings that we are,
Learning to be at peace
With that which is,
And to persevere in and through the unforeseen,
This has been a decade of change,
Of changes to self and globe,
Bringing us closer,
Pulling apart,
Colliding,
Fusing,
Becoming,
We measure in years and decades,
When it should be by the moments,
The incalculable fleeting moments that hold together our lives,
We should measure in lives we touch, lives we are touched by,
Measure in measures we’ve made,
Measure in the tiny variables that make up the time that slips away,
That we are left ten years later trying to collect from snapshot photos,
In the digital age we’ve taken for granted the picture,
Only to see them later, finding the looks,
Memories, emotions,
We almost missed,
Oh what comes next,
No one can quite guess,
It is with fear and excitement,
Enmeshed
That we take the polar plunge,
Into the moment to moment future,
As the clock strikes twelve,
Nothing is ever as more imminent
Than the very next moment.
She of Letters 