Thursday, November 23, 2023

A. poem …

Observation


Now and then one needs a bit of chaos,

Even when grown old, perhaps then

Most of all, end time nearing, though questions

Still can be answered. Things seem so strange now,

The way they did, most likely, at the start.

In between, he’d acted like he had a clue.

Now he knows he never did, and sure

In hell doesn’t have one now. Little’s left

To happen, but something could prove momentous.

These days, brushing his hair, paying attention

To each stroke, he drifted into feeling 

Without words, and simply was, alive

Past comprehension. That was the hard part:

Just saying yes. Leaping into being.


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