6/26/11

Now dreading what must come to pass,
Tomorrow morning fast descends,
Return to daily life at last,
Thus my recuperation ends.
I must bear up and soon rejoin,
The living world of active souls,
This earth spins by the weight of coins,
Such contribution is my role.
And so no time for further rest,
Or sympathies be entertained.
Yet doubt surrounds this toiler's test,
Shall I succeed or strive in vain?
Will my revival triumph best,
Or just revive fresh scars and pain?

6/25/11

So many things that we keep in the attic,
Long after all usefulness fades away.
Things we retain by compulsion or habit,
Precious remembrance, untouched day to day.
Memories clung to for fear of their fading,
Scattered mementos keep moments alive.
Yet, for our efforts preserving and saving,
Time erodes all despite how we might try.
Clearing the attic, is therefore commended.
Cleansing the past recommended indeed,
For every time good or bad that has ended,
Space must be left for new hopes to succeed.

6/24/11

Today I woke, invisible,
Alone in deep transparency,
So insignificant, until,
The daily postage came to me.
A letter and a package sent,
Which bore my name and thoughts from friends.
How strange so small a sentiment,
Restores one to the world again.