Poetry and Prose II

Contemplations of a meandering mind.

It is one of those days when the sky is mild, a breeze is blowing.  It is fall.  I love the fall!  Of course, it is not the full-fledged cusp of fall splendor.  No brilliant display of colors as of yet.  A few yellowing and browned leaves flutter down in the breeze.  It should be pretty this year, since we’ve had sufficient rain.  It rained last night..  A steady, easy, relaxed and lulling rain.  But we still have air conditioners running since the temperatures are inconsistent.  So it wasn’t as enjoyable as it could have been, say if there were aluminum awnings and it was safe to sleep with the windows open wide.

Today is a candle day.  There is something about the flicker of live flame, however small, that gives a little resuscitative dose of hope.  Not enough to live on, mind you, but enough to survive another hour or two.  My heart is leaden in my chest.  My shoulders sag and my spine curves under the weight of my cares.  Some days I am stronger, can lift and carry better.  And some days I am a weakened, depleted, sickly veteran.

On this day I am a little “stuck in the mud”.  But it’s only morning.  Usually something comes along and distracts me.  More often than not, anymore, it’s merely a matter of having so little tolerance for melancholy.  Thankfully that is the nature of the human spirit.  It’s not programmed to stall, but to ebb and flow like the tides.  Perhaps that’s why we are so drawn to the ocean.   It resonates with our souls at an elemental level.


Poetry and Prose II