Sunday, October 18, 2015

entropy wins at the end

the act I’m in now

I don’t feel anywhere near as old as I must look,
like many of us, I have an earlier image of my self
that hovers within me, 
that hasn’t changed much in a quarter century plus,
my body and mind still can do,
and, it seems to me, to do well,
much like they always have,

yet I don’t run anymore, and I miss it,
sleep is no longer a trusty sidekick
but rather a friend that counsels uncomfortable truths
right in the middle of the night,
that time when I would prefer to shut off
the fear, the sorrow, just below my sureness,
I wake up and feel that I’m slapped
with what I don’t want to acknowledge,

ever since my Daddy abruptly died
and wasn’t there for me, ever again,
I have felt the surface on which I live
as tenuous, fragile, liable to dissolve at any moment,
and something within break, and I can no longer be,
or something without randomly intrude and I am no more,

we live a life of probabilities, 
and sometimes our luck will run out,
so much that feels right won’t fit us any more,
as age and entropy win at the end,
for now, I seek to remember to live these moments well,
the curtain will come down, 
let me joy in whatever act I live 
in the moments I have now.

by Henry H. Walker
October 16, ‘15

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