Tuesday, December 27, 2016

The Meeting

Something I wrote several years ago.

You say you want to see me
and I want to see you.
More than anything
else that I could do.

But a meeting is but a spot in time
just minutes and seconds to end.
And then when gone,
empty without you.

And what if my tongue,
momentarily tied,
fails to tell you,
fails to persuade?

Is my moment lost?
Never to return?
Or may I have another and another
Until I do what's right?

And what if my courage
suddenly flees
in the face of your poise and grace?
May I have another, please?

No this parceling of moments is far too cruel,
I cannot risk you on such thin gruel.
To do you justice requires a lifetime of toil
that this minute and second thing foils.

I think the only way to care for you
is to stop all time and until we are through,
to live each moment over and again
until I know and understand...

...you.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

The Box

I am trapped in a box of my own design.
No exits, weak points or seams.
I've lived here my whole life.
Hearing the muffled sounds and bumps of life outside.
I suppose I shall never leave.
After all, I built it for me.

We can't set ourselves free.
Who will rescue me?