the cold morning sky

 

. . . . . . the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine.  the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  //   sleep,  that’s all i needed.  the unfamiliar period in the day where i could just go an try to forget the stress,  aggravation and disappointment of the day and slip into a deep dream,  a place where i can find you again.  i sip on the  warming tea  as i reach for my book to read a few chapters.  poe,  hemingway or dickens come alive as the words strike images in my head.  but quickly my eyelids start to become heavy and my attention to the words become faded.   placing the bookmark,  closing the book , i turn over to turn off the bedside lamp.  darkness quickly covers the room as my restless eyes adjust.  a deep sigh and all the thoughts of what went on,  all the things i did wrong, what made each other tick,  her smile,  her laugh.  all the good times and even all of  the bad,  everything we had  etched well into the loneliness.   my mind desperately seeks,  searches for a sign or something to let me know that she’s still there,   thinking about me.  buts all about  the endless game and question of “what if”  and keeps my sleep awake.  a quick early winters wind passes by the window and the glass rattles.  the conversations i have in my head lead me to believe that im going crazy.  the endless thought of her,  her hello’s and her goodnight’s  stained the memory and present thought.  the constant stress laughs and tic tocks, picks away at the man who once was me.  uneasy restlessness  slowly crawls from my lower back and squirms up my back into my neck, arms and finger tips.  i toss and turn,  and i become a bed sheet burrito.  i force my eyes to find the sleep,  and the black of closed eyes calm.  deep and deeper i find a slice of calmness.  //   the phone that sat alongside of the night stand lit up and awoke my slumber.   in the foggy haze found between sleep and being awake,  i found your name on the unread text.  sitting up quickly,  i read the modern day sent message.  it said that you  needed to talk to me and that you wanted to see me.  she’d been thinking about me just as much as i was of her.  she wanted to see me,  now.  my first thought was that this was another wicked dream,  my mind playing a cruel joke.  i’d seen her coming back to me in many of my dreams,  my hopes,  but none that were real.   i jump from the bed and quickly freshen up and dress myself.  i grab my keys and quickly walk to the truck.   in the short time that i fell asleep,  the sparse flakes of snow had actually grew to a good accumulating covering.  the truck turns over and the wipers shove the small amount of snow aside.  as i drive,  the quietness of the night,  the headlights catch the falling flakes and the tires cut through the slush.  up ahead on the horizon,  the light of dawn started to break and up ahead another set of headlights came up from the hill not too far away.  as i fixed my eyes back to the section of road ahead,   a quick blur of a young deer darted out from the dark wooded grove alongside the road.  slamming on the breaks,  swerving to miss,  the truck began to fishtail.  fighting the spinout,  the truck finds the opposite side of the road,  a ditch,  an open field.   as the first tires caught the ditch,  it flipped the truck over and over.  flip after flip i lose grip, my head hits the windshield and ejects me from the seat.  out  ten yards away from the smashed truck,  i land on my back.  the ground cold and frozen.   the headlights from the oncoming lane stops and i hear the man rush up to me.  the snow crunches as it collects under the soles of his boots.  he quickly removes his coat covers my chest and arms to keep me warm as he calls for help.  i tell him that im fine,  but he doesn’t hear me.  off in the distance,  the faint screaming of sirens become louder,  once again i hear him tell me that help is coming,  but i tell him that im fine and that i need to see her.  again,  he doesn’t hear me.   as i see the police cars,  firetrucks and e.m.s. pull up,  i scream that this is all not necessary.  no one hears my words as the paramedics hang there heads over me.   and as they worked on me,  i was on the cold ground, white sheet and all.  but i was seeing this from above it all,  out of my own.   daybreak,  and the sun crests above the wooded horizon.  the cold morning sky softly glowed a soft blue, peach and grey.  off in the near distance,  the birds sing their morning song.  //  im looking for you,   and i don’t want to leave.  i want you to come back to me as if it was the beginning.  but as it came to be,  there weren’t any messages on my phone saying that you wanted me back.  that part i dreamt i suppose.  when you left,  i was never the same.  the void took my soul,  my motivation.  i need you and  i needed you.   the memory always haunted the present.  but as for what it was,  it blinded the future.  {the past always haunted the present,  and blinded the future} and as i moved along the day,  it was as if my feet were stuck in the cement. //  the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine. the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  sleep,  that’s all i needed,  . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

 

c.2013  bgw

something’s missing

. . . . i’m not going to sugar coat it.  to tell you that it’s just a case of writers block would be the farthest from the truth.  the ideas of new overflow in my head and the ability to write has seemed to have temporary disappeared –  something’s missing.  hurdling a wall that can’s even be climbed,  the frustration mounts as the ideas get blocked by distractions.  the audience awaits for another desired rhyme,  but the stage sits empty.   just is the momentary season of without – and a life without is just that – just.  i sit with my pen and paper,  and all i do is just stare at a blank piece of parchment.  looking for that moment of break through that brings another fulfilling story.  letters drawn up to form words,  but the words have nowhere to go,  and draw up the incompletion instead.  mumble jumble nonsense goes nowhere and the thought of  the stories once written mislead.   ive sat in this chair night after night, trying my best to complete just a paragraph, and i cant even do that.  . . . . . 

 

 

c. 2013 bgw

keeping the emptiness company

. . . . . . .the words come and go,  the days pass by.   never really knowing where to start,  until seemingly,  you come to the end.   and that’s where i found you,  at the end of this path,  a place where the  two paths  collided and became one.   one minute,  guided by the crunch of the footsteps in a pebble filled path,  and the next,  floating in space, quiet,  lost and soul’d.    you find yourself at home,  but stand in a stranger’s room looking out the window.   all the thoughts,   and all the words,   keep me awake on  some nights.   the pictures that are in my head,   act like a short film,   keeping  me wanting more;    wishing that you were here,   riding this wave  with  me tonight.   but instead i find myself sitting this chair,   keeping the emptiness in this room company,  and everything that was,  and everything that i stood for,  now lyes in ruins.   floating,  out in the middle of the sea,  on a paper raft,   slowly taking on water;   slowly i sink deeper.   the salty water rushes up to my chin,  clinging on for dear life,  on a piece of  life preserver.   and there,  as i try to stay afloat,   a seaplane slowly crawls across the sky in the not so far off distance.   reaching out your hand,  you grab my hand, and stop my sinking –  saving me from an ever raging sea,  saving grace,  and a smile cracks through this numb face.   i’ve been solitaire for so long,   i’ve forgotten what the feeling feels like.   and here we are,  in new beginnings.   a familiar formality,   and you make it  feel so brand new.   you make the pain go away,   healing my wounds;  when it hurts the most.   pour me another glass of your love;   what your answers can’t solve,  ill never truly know.   and there i sit,  in the white sands of paradise,  her eyes  looking deep  within my eyes,  saying a thousand,  unspoken words.   the breeze covers and cools,   the sun warms upon my face,   and the candlelight flickers as it shows the smile,  the grin,   exposing the beauty that is you.  warm ocean waters, come and cool me off.  sea gulls come and carry the letdown of yesterday way,  nevermore a sight.  sticking my feet in the soft sands,  your hand within my hand,  as my rock.  here we are,  hand in hand.  //  after the storms have passed,  there i am ; still standing.  never looking back,  one time and ill regret.  and now there you are,  greeting me –  with your smile,  with your lips,   your kiss.   has it been me,  you’ve missed?   another days dawn,  waking up with the sun in my eyes,  peaking through the window back in my chair,  in the empty room,  keeping the emptiness company.  but do not be sad my beloved!, though,  you were just a dream,  never meaning to be.  the tick toc echos through the room,  and the silence stirs.   you were only a dream,  that saved me for a little while.  still! ,  bringing  to my face a smile that will last awhile,  until the next time she comes and rescues my drowning soul. . . . . .

c. 2004,  2013  BGW