HOME TO HOPE
Shadows of doubt fall across my face on dark days and I have trouble finding my way home to hope. Reliance on sunshine fails me come dusk. Twinkling stars bare their souls to little avail. I am lost. Absurdity and obsession plague me for time and attention. I wander deeper into a dismal wood. How can I chop my way free? Dejection dulls my senses; I am blind to solemn assurance. I must reevaluate the shimmering enthusiasm from the night sky. Skepticism passes like storm clouds, I may feel the rain for a time; necessity reigns on both sides of every street but still I can crawl into my bed. Morning will come and I will fear less the coming night.
Hop right after you put your foot down and you can skip most of your problems.
After long years I have made my own acquaintance,
friendship is on a far distant shore.
I know who I am and can recognize myself
on the street or in a crowded room.
I have a legitimate sense of wariness
of the afore mentioned persona,
nothing too nasty, just a discomfort.
She is not someone I would bring home,
maybe not even share a meal with
but I can stand her, minus intimacy,
minus any deep empathy.
I feel an awkwardness in acknowledging her,
strange as this might sound.
She is no one to be ashamed of,
not a truly bad actor
Yet the reports say she doesn’t live up to her potential
and I have it on personal authority
that she actually surpasses it on most days
and keeps this a closely held confidence.
And there it is, I know her secrets
but I don’t keep her.
This is what makes me strange and her stranger.