Musing (a poem)

Needs a better title…

Present
and accounted for
thinking about whatever
I’m thinking about
and not much else

I know that wishes
sometimes have consequences
and I wished that this would all be over
soon enough

I will live with that
but I will understand that there’s more to it all
than the wishes that spring forth from within

There’s always more than that
more that I can’t control
turning reactions into actions

I will live with that too
aware now that the distance
is more than a matter of miles
and that there are some things
language cannot invent

The photograph in the paper
of the man with hands held in prayer
may come closest

How much of this silence
will stick around
to soothe whatever needs soothing?

How many descending chords
will soothe the rest?

When my eyes close
what will it matter?

(15 September 2019—posted September 16th)

 


 

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