At 2am, sleep is like a stranger I see on a street in my hometown I recognize her face But before I can ask where I know her from She darts across the lanes of traffic Around a corner And disappears The cars speed by Blocking my path And through the side windows As they pass I see An old friend Charlie Sheen A guy from work I need to talk to The cars keep moving And the light never changes The countdown - 25, 24, 23, 25, 24, 23 I step out anyway And the road is sticky My shoes barely move And the cars keep coming Each one with a familiar occupant A homeless man I saw yesterday My grandkids My daughter's boyfriend Two nuns with a Buddhist monk Lao Tzu and Robin Williams A guy from work I need to talk to He must be circling the block The parade of cars keeps coming I see a slight break in the traffic So I sprint across the street in pursuit But when I round the corner I'm in my back yard With weeds that need pulling I step into my house through the back door And see the cabinets that need painting And my laptop With the emails that need answering There's a knock on the front door The dog barks He hears a noise in the night I realize I've been dreaming With my eyes open to the darkness It's 2:12am Twelve minutes passed Like cars on a country road And in the distance I see her hitch hiking Brake lights glare, hurting my eyes Sleep gets in the back seat And the car speeds off Into the night As I stand along the road Waiting in the dark For the first light of morning
Category: Family
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cars on a country road
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turning
There are moments in life when nothing makes sense. No amount of ingenuity or strength can get you out of the darkness. In those moments, some turn to God, some turn to family, some turn to therapy, some turn and run. The measure of a soul isn't where you turn when faced with senslessness, but when you get through it, whether you help others through their darkest moments. The only light someone may be able to see is you.
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5:02am
I hear you breathing in the quietness and listen for the next intake and exhale realizing that peace is in the simple things that happen without me knowing just how vital they are and that I miss many of them by giving focus to the words in my head telling me that whatever is coming is more important though I should be in the moment when I'm awake before the dawn hearing the softness of your breath and should know that with each and every rise and fall of your chest I am the luckiest person just to be able to lie here and listen to the sound of you sleeping.
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the journey
"Are we there yet?" "No, for the 500th time!" "We'll be there when we get there!" We'll be there when equality is a given. We'll be there when everyone has enough. We'll be there when genocide is never the answer. We'll be there when war is a historical reference. We'll be there when faith is not a reason to hate. We'll be there when the mentally ill are not shoved under bridges. We'll be there when no one believes in a grim fairy tale ending. We'll be there when everyone loves and is loved. "Are we there yet?" "No for the 501st time, but we're closer than we were 500 miles ago." "Do something useful, we'll be there before you know it!" We're closer than we were 500 years ago. Do something useful, we'll be there before you know it.
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greeting the day
I can see my breath in the cool stillness of the morning. As my best four-legged friend and I head from tree to bush to patch of drying grass, I revel in the quiet sounds of a morning walk. A dog that barks forlornly as we walk by. The whisper of hummingbird wings going from flower to flower. A cry of a early rising hawk as it seeks the warmth of first light. The rustling of leaves in the brisk yet gentle breeze. I can feel my muscles loosen as I climb the gentle slope leading to the park. I can feel my mind open as I take in the breathtaking panorama before me. A tree full of red ornament-like pomegranates. The newborn colors of a sunrise as they stroll across the sky. A splash of autumn foliage rarely seen in California. The bright clothes of children waiting for a yellow bus. I know that without the distractions of the coming day,the universe will match me stride for stride and teach me things I can only learn when I listen closely. A sense of belonging with knowing my place in the world. The contentment of a quiet moment alone. A true conversation with the person I want to be. The wisdom of nature guiding my thoughts. These and so much more I seek and most often find on my quiet morning walk.
