Those Sometime Endings
Rather blunt...those sometime endings,
those endings that are too proud to filter their
existence.
They’ve walked with me for ages, and yet, I
can’t accept the interval of their visits;
the tragedy of minutes, unpredicted, disturbingly
naked and merciless upon my greatest hours.
Sometimes and ever so occasionally, reality weeps,
and we choose to imitate these bold hints.
Like the hawk, dipped in mortality. It never sleeps
during these periods of gloomy melody.
Where does he creep?
To dim chapels filled with tearful saints, accepting
the significant departure of friends in transition;
Observe the necessary podium for those in spiritual
authority; listen the for sympathetic tissue in his speech.
The storm wages on to another sphere.
We all court the infamous no when yes isn’t available.
Indeed, when I stumble sometimes, the hawk catches
my stool, and allows humanity to come tumbling down.
But as breathless seeds succumb to droughts and Gods
period draws closer, I find myself with more chapters to
explore, and the reassurance that today’s finale is not yet
mine.
I pray that when the rain does form among my surroundings,
I’ll be judged kindly during this brazing period, and no
blemish shall prosper.
One can only withstand a brief taste of sometimes presence,
during these sometime endings.
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