With April being Poetry Month I doff my hat to all the poets in the world. With humble pen in hand and crisp sheets on the desk, I scribble and scrawl the words which beat within my breast.
Life is fragile and life is resilient. The day before I learned about a dear friend’s diagnosis of bone cancer. Over the weekend a young woman whom I’ve not met but heard spoken of with admiration by a friend, a young woman who was lovely and pleasant, who had a husband and a 5-year old daughter,…this young woman died in a plane crash. Life is fragile, and the dealings of life are sometimes so very unfair.
Rally, My Friendlong are the shadows that twist and bend jagged pain and sadness the bitter oil we are forced to swallow pale is the face of our lonely moon unmoored uncompassed adrift across a dark and crystal ocean shadows twist and bend to better cover what remains of us drowning are the depths we opt to tread alone unaided convinced we are alone unaware that on the other side of despair the sun rallies the skies ’tis a veil of marauding clouds of shadows that twist and bend to suffocate the breath inside there are no safe passages (Rally, my friend.) we all must tread these darkly waters (And cover your ears.) where the air presses like iron weights crushing upon our chest where our strength is scathed and we are one sigh from dying Rally, my friend, and cover your ears. Those honeyed words will not slake your thirst. Rally, my friend, and lift your eyes. Pierce your stare past shadows that twist and bend. You are not alone, my friend.