Mostly awake, not fully conscious

These Saturday emotions are as heavy as the
Nashville air that clings closely like pet hair on black pants
I never know what to expect
Nashville weather is as changeable as my own fickle heart
Today I read of a friend's pain
His suffering struggle to deal with a stalking sickness
And then I, too, am haunted - it seems - by a persistent darkness
Why some of us serve as canaries in the coal mine
And often sing the sad songs of injustice
I cannot say
Did we sign a cosmic contract in a moment of pre-born insanity?
Were we taught this torpor by the toils of a toddler or
Trained by the imagined rejections of an adolescent?
I wish I knew
All I can do is honor this day with
Whatever shreds of honesty remain from the week of
Commerce and capitulations
It is with the faith of a child that we persist, I suppose
Like that oft told tale of
Homiletic cornpone
I just keep digging and digging
Ignoring the obvious odor
And like that trusting boy
Equipped only with a shovel and a smile
I keep hoping and praying
I will soon find that pony
I was one day promised
But have never once seen

dg

7/16/11


Sent from my iPad
http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

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