Dawn

You once told me
that it's impossible for one to see
when the clouds refuse to move out of the way
of your vision.

What can you do
when life's pleasures fail to negate
the self hate,
and black clouds
squeeze your hand
like an anxious teenager
meeting the father of his prom date.

So what's the point?
Is there a moment that is worth it, and
how many moments will it take before it's over?
Is there truly something more
when you've shuffled the shit outta your deck
and the poker game is over,
and then what?

That's the million dollar question,
haunted humanity for thousands of years,
the root of religion and in turn,
death- carnage- famine- inquisition- persecution-
glory- pride- and ignorance.

It's impossible for breathing human beings
to take a sneak peak
view a spoiler trailer
of the glorious afterlife
of which we want to believe.
Joy and happiness await above the clouds,
whilst secretly,
we wonder if this is false,
if this is it.

Again- so what,
why thrive
in a world rife with chaos and strife,
and it's a struggle to survive,
tell me why?
if there is nothing beyond this life
so be it- embrace it
let the clouds snuff out the light
one last time.

A valid point-- now allow me if you don't mind.
What makes existing worth existing--
the answer is difficult
but simple,
yet sometimes falls on blind eyes
and muted lips- in which case,
use your ears.

Crinkled cold sheets on a lazy Sunday--
the warmth of a comfy old tee shirt
straight out of the dryer--
Birthday cards from Grandma containing ten dollar checks--
iced tea on a sweltering summer afternoon--
picking wildflowers to put in a makeshift vase--
licking the bubbly foam in a fresh cup of Coke--
remembering a pleasant dream from previous slumbers--
memorizing the one minute conversation
with your secret crush before the bell rings--
those odd days when your skin involuntarily glows
and your stride has an extra bounce to it--
when the weatherman is actually accurate
and it snows on Christmas.

putting a pen to a pad of paper
and just writing whatever comes to mind--
meeting strange characters in a subway car--
rescuing lost turtles from country backroads--
fighting to stay awake through a bad movie--
taking a long hike on a crisp Autumn day--
sipping warm cocoa with a peppermint stick--
beating a game at the arcade--
letting snowflakes land on your tongue--
making a friend smile when they're having one of those days--
conversing with your pet fish who is always there to listen--
replacing a crying child's doomed ice cream cone--
climbing trees--
turning off your thoughts and curling up with a book
and just forgetting.

Blow it off I won't take offense,
It's impossible to force one to see
when one chooses
to be blind. Yet-
Someday,
those hourglass sands of Fate
will call the bluff on your dead man's hand-
what time and date one can't yet say-
but I reckon it won't happen yet,
you have unfinished business to attend
before your time is up
purpose, my friend,
it's how the world operates.

So, you're not sold yet- and
the car salesman's patience is waning-
the stoplight is about to turn-
consider one last thought.

Wake up before dawn,
Go outside,
take a breath of fresh air
and let the dewey grass
squish beneath your feet-
find a quiet spot
make yourself comfortable
and wait.
As the sun rises,
take in the moment for what it is-
a moment-
insignificant in the scheme of time,
but perhaps,
a defining moment
in your life.
Clear your mind,
sweep the sticky notes off your desk
close your eyes
and listen
to the birds hum their melody-
a Hallmark greeting to the sun
from Earth.
You are alive.

There will come a day,
when church doors shut for good
leaving followers to pray
on their knees toward a black sky
for redemption
that may never come.
When clouds shroud the exhausted sun,
the world falls into shadow
and those on the planet
shall suffer the dark clouds.
Who knows when it will happen,
in a week, a month, twenty years--
but it is not this day.

The sun's rays are sweeping,
tapping on your window
wishing a jolly good morning.
Say hello and
smile,
pause and listen--
those songbirds sing for you.