And Then What?

There is something that I know for sure
which is the fact that
it is tough to be down
especially when you know
you have to get back up.

Nothing to me
is quite like the sunrise
or as hopeful,
like when the sun
evolves like an orange yolk
in the palm of tomorrow’s
great horizon.

None is like this
None.

It is another day in paradise
I say.
The morning is on its way
and bills are due
the tax collectors
are all alive and well
and there is always someone
who claims to have a better cure.

I am not here to deny
that yesterday happened,
nor can I deny what took place
or what went wrong.

I do not deny the bullies are fat and fed
and the gossip mills and the rumor factories
are both alive and well
and doing fine.

I do not contest the fact
that while I am not sick
I understand
that I am not well either.

I do not deny the pain
which comes
when we have been slapped in the face.
I do not say
this doesn’t hurt
nor can I deny the humiliation that happens
when we turn the other cheek
and this time
we get punched in the face
again.

I am no stranger to sadness
or adversity, and I am far
from innocent
or unlikely to achieve sainthood
even by the devil’s standards, but
last time I checked,
most of the glass houses we know of
are suffering from the same draft
because of the stones that are tossed
and the surprised awareness
of their broken windows.

The pot calls
the kettle black
and people in glass houses
should not throw stones,
or in the cases of public stoning;
I remember it was said
let he among you
who is without sin
cast the first stone.
And while no one can line up
to be first
I am told the line to be second
is long and stretches
down the street.

Maybe an impasse
is actually a win.
Maybe what we assumed to be wins
are inevitably losses,
or even more,
maybe the losses we endure
are the needed trials
that cause us to wake up,
or to be on the lookout
and to stand at the verge
and be prepared to enjoy tomorrow’s win.

But time can be a bitch
when you have to wait.

There is no more frozen mercury
due to the coldness
or the absence of touch.
The hands have thawed
reluctantly too, I might add.
But at least we have thawed,
nonetheless.

I am a firm believer
that no one can kill you
forever.
They may try
and they may score
and they may leave
breaks in the soul
or invisible scars
on the unseeable heart.

Losses can hurt
pain can sting
and so can the truth
but nothing and no one
can hurt us forever.

And yes, time itself
is relative, of course.
One minute is never
longer than one minute,
But minutes can seem like lifetimes
especially when the minutes
are brutal or unfair.

I have decided to rest assured
that something good has come my way.
I have decided to do
as it was said
which is to let today
be sufficient for itself and to realize
that tomorrow comes
with its own worries.
Therefore,
like the sermon on the mount
I will realize
that the first will be last
and the last shall be first,
and that while I suffer
or have suffered, I know
that I have no reason to fear
“For thou art with me.”

I hunger
and I thirst.
I weep
and I mourn
I struggle
and I fail
and I lose to the tyranny of self
and often, I have fallen
to the selfish nature
of sin.

I know who I am
and I know the difference between hell
and heaven, and yes,
I know the devil personally;
in fact,
we used to have lunch together
in my office
all the time.
That is, until
I no longer had an office
or a home
or a place
or a person to call my own.

I am well aware
of the downward spiral
and the deflation that comes
after self-destruction runs its course
and creates a reality
that matches the emotion
which stemmed from within.

I felt the waters yesterday
(because of you)
and felt the bittersweetness
of purity, love,
and as sure as the sun will come
and arise today,
I know that my love for you
is free to grow
so long as I realize
that your love for me
is both living
and breathing; and therefore
I have to care for us both
always, otherwise,
I will fall again
to the same demons
who caused me to fall
the first time.

The beach is empty now
but somewhere
a piece of driftwood
will wash upon the shoreline
and tell an unknown story
to the one person
who cares to listen
and loves me the most.

I am no piece of driftwood
and no,
my story is not over
and while the plot
will often thicken,
I know deep down
no one can kill me forever.
Not even me.

And so,
the sun will be up soon
and yes,
I see her through new eyes
as if I were blinded
and healed, or washed clean
by the hand of love.

Or perhaps this is like the healing
I was shown, like that
which was passed down by the hands
of Saint Paraskevi of Rome,
the healer and restorer of sight.
Yes, I know this now.
At last, I can say
that while I was blind,
now, finally,
I can see
because of you.