Gratitude, Always

It’s a minute to midnight,
I’m watching the clock tick-tock its way to a new dawn;
Trying to capture the exact moment of the transition;
This wouldn’t be my first attempt,
Though each time I’d managed to miss the tangibility
Of that sharp dividing line separating old from new.

Sometimes I wish everything would come to a standstill –
A moment of silence to acknowledge the passing of a season.
Sometimes I wish there would be a tremor
Through the fabric of existence,
To signal the birth of a new cycle.

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Photo by James Wheeler from Pexels

Crossroads

Walking down memory lane, I come across many strange sights;
Strange, not because they’re unfamiliar, surprising or unnatural;
But because down memory lane things just look different.
Some things which seemed heavy, look like feathers now;
Some things that flitted through barely leaving a mark,
Now seem to have made and left trenches deep and wide;
Fleeting moments that were regarded ordinary, barely noteworthy,
Now seem to be set in gold, with silver linings and adorned with pearls.
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A Father’s Loss (II)

These are words I couldn’t share before,
Trapped in a growing earthen mould not yet equipped
To express the gravity of the thoughts that linger
And roam in the depths of this immortal soul.

I’ve seen things stranger than fiction
And heard things that cannot be put into words
I’ve taken steps falteringly, seemingly aimlessly
To a destination that couldn’t be surer.
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Change

Things are not the same, and you probably don’t need me to tell you.
But sometimes, I need to consciously apprise myself of the changes occurring.
Change comes, bidden or unbidden;
Like time, it’s always in effect, with every tick of the clock;
Change always occurs, passively or actively, positively or negatively.
Some changes are ridden like waves,
Some unfortunately, we allow to tread all over us.
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