Up at 5am. Not awake enough to rise, but not sleepy enough to sleep. The state in the middle where your mind floats between what was and what will be while your ears reach at you saying come back to the present.
Not enough and too much. Intermingled thoughts while the sun and moon pass each other in the hall. If the angels came down and took me today ? Regret and loss and fear would fly off me as I ascended, littering my gravestone. Lay flowers there? Don't you dare. No way. I saw the suffering and instead of really doing something about it, I just kicked the tires. Never truly committing.
Motorcycle in the distance. Must be 6:20. Anonymous yet familiar, like a time clock, Monday through Friday. I'm usually at my kitchen window staring at a sleepy sky when he passes. Where you going, I always ask, but he never answers.
Where I am going is the better question. Seven am out of bed. Two mockingbirds, my mockingbirds, cry out. No more test drives. Time to get behind the wheel. What was and what will be.
Not enough and too much. Intermingled thoughts while the sun and moon pass each other in the hall. If the angels came down and took me today ? Regret and loss and fear would fly off me as I ascended, littering my gravestone. Lay flowers there? Don't you dare. No way. I saw the suffering and instead of really doing something about it, I just kicked the tires. Never truly committing.
Motorcycle in the distance. Must be 6:20. Anonymous yet familiar, like a time clock, Monday through Friday. I'm usually at my kitchen window staring at a sleepy sky when he passes. Where you going, I always ask, but he never answers.
Where I am going is the better question. Seven am out of bed. Two mockingbirds, my mockingbirds, cry out. No more test drives. Time to get behind the wheel. What was and what will be.
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