January 22, 2014

• The Thief

  You know… there are days in the winter of our lives
  Piling on now and symptomatic of a weakening will
  When those accidental atoms which make for a material existence
  Convert within a wrinkled water-inflated body
  To an ocean of silent degradation of those circuitous spores
  Those aquatic amoebas floating within us
  That once long ago…spermed and spiralled themselves into an “us”

  Within the turbulent caverns of our minds
  Our drained brains still manage a spark of tumultuous thought
  Of how to make it possible to greet another dawn
  Of how not to submit…of how not to surrender…
  Of how to cheat that stealthy thief of a few more ticks
  That miserable bastard… that mandatory time-keeper
  The enemy of us all

  But there is no hope… one might salvage a few more tired tries
  In the end though… the thief always wins

  Still the cat sleeps… She could not care less
  She has triumphed over that sly dilatory sneak
  Because she is not afraid of him
  Her courage sparkles… reaches out to us with gentle loving purrs
  She is our dominie… the guide to our survival
  Her eyes transmit her faith in us… she needs us
  Like nuns and monks need their sanctuaries
  She eats and drinks and stays warm in our bed

  And when you come right down to it
  Isn’t that all that really matters?

  • 10:52 am
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