Another Day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just my stuff...

Submitted: July 02, 2017

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Submitted: July 02, 2017

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Another day: Just an instant before the eyes reluctantly open, it happens. The faithful awakening moment of dread and fear; insurmountable and dependable, a never failing reality.  Every. Single. Day.

 

Drawn to thoughts of subtlety declining health and time remaining, the reality of age taking no hostage, we suffer ever more, reminded of raw, painful loss.  We grieve and yearn for sweet, sweet love and lovers lost.  But that is dead and gone.  A scabbed but painful sore that will not heal. 

 

So we retreat to the depths of slumber, or drink, or all the stupid stuff of a new day, where all is well for a moment. We are back in the womb where we are safe and perfectly coddled and comforted. Until, inevitably, reality returns with another day’s consciousness; eyes open yet again. 

 

Somehow we find a way to grab hold of hope for this new, fresh start. For all the days remaining.  But in less than an instant, we are back in the inescapable clutches of abyss with no enduring relief.

 

God is sought, found, and sought again. 

 

But reality is an obsessive, lurking ache. 

 

Nothing more. Every. Single. Day. 

 

We trudge the only road there is. Until we don't. 

 

 

(July, 2017)


© Copyright 2017 Billie Gray. All rights reserved.

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