TWENTY-FOUR HOURS

October 29, 2009 candacemorris 4 Comments

One day a lifetime spans.

Conception and gestation by moonlight.

Life and birth upon

waking.  Tears bequeath teeth brings

baby words of complaint. Feed

me.  Hold

me! Love me?

Mid-morning brings the terrible-twos.

A childhood found too late and

Too early lost.

Read me a nap-time story, Fyodor.  Of a god I

just have met.  Tell this child

of a brotherly saint. Of the faith

birthed through death.

Afternoon, adolescence.

Just learned to stop cringing when Dad

makes the coffee too strong.

The rays break through

the rains and the biting chill of autumn

Air as it whooshes past bicycling feet

Too big for her awkward, unbalanced body.

Wobbling, relearning.

The sun sets as a walk

through womanhood dawns.

Yet the blood flows like never before

Productivity in pinks and projects.

The young voice forgotten.

To the florist and grocer to take care

of home.

To dinner, to middle ages.

Moon's breath and cardamom knives

through the immaturity and brings laughter and ease

into the wine bottle.

Midnight drive into convalescence.

Slumber eases the soul into afterlife.

One life, one day

A lifetime spans.

{mme}

written as a continual reminder to myself that often days carry within their skin multitudes of moods, to neither trust or distrust them, and to remember that a walk through the forest can change anything.