Moving on 10/15/2007

The painting is not done
Knowing when to stop,
The sign of a good artist

The struggle of the widow-
The pain and thought prove your love
But only to you

Realize you have been lost-
Lost in your sorrow
Find yourself

She knows.
Your days are precious
Continue your painting.

St. Peters Denial 10/10/07

Waking up on your death bed
tubes in your arm
sensors on your chest
no clue how you got there
grasping for the recent past
seeing feet at the end of the bed
peeking out from tustled blankets
knowing they are yours, but also knowing they don't look like yours
you can move them, but they still look fake
eyes sweeping the empty room, hearing nothing
eyes stop on the phone, blank gaze, mental pause
there is a defined moment in timee when you realize who that call would go to
silence broken by the audible beep of your heart rate rising
trying to cope with that reality
if you could reach the phone, or get up, you would call her first
trying to cope with that reality

dying would have been painless,
onlookers would have probably thought otherwise
waking up is going to turn out to be more difficult than the alternative.