An Alternate Reality

One Brown Sock

Where do they go?
Nobody knows.
I think the dryer
feeds on clothes
and my brown socks.

I put two in
the other day
and somehow one
was whisked away
without a trace.

Did UFOs
slyly descend
to cart it off
before the end
of the fluff cycle?

Or maybe there’s
a deep black hole
where wet brown socks
and monsters go
when we’re not looking.

Alas, a mystery
it’s true
So now I’m wearing
one dark blue
and one brown sock.

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The Final Walk of Life

There is a road
that none of us has been on before
and yet one that all of us must travel.

We take a step with pain.
We shuffle along with grief.
We get tangled in the brambles of loss.

No one really wants to
make the journey,
but no one can avoid it.

There is darkness ahead, the unknown looms,
but even if we stand still
the path moves beneath our feet.

We are aware of others on the path,
shadows of joy, or hope,
or friends along the way,

but in the end we make the footsteps ourselves.
No one can make them for us
and no one can tell us where ours will land.

We are ultimately alone on this road
with whatever philosophy gives us comfort.
And yet, we are all alone together

struggling to find our way on this final walk of life.

A Life Well Lived

Lingering or sudden
too early or long overdue
when the Mystery calls
all of us must answer.

We can weep and wail
protesting our fate
burying the joy along with the body
and feeling sorry for ourselves.

Or we can celebrate
letting the innumerable memories
tie us together forever
into Eternity.

And we can hold our
lost ones in our love
looking forward and saying
This is a life well lived!

Twists and Turns

The wind makes ripples in the pool
and I am there to see it.

Thus, every twist and turn in my life
has brought me to this instant.

And every twist and turn in every life before me
has led me to this place.

And every twist and turn in the lives of all
who made the pool, who built the building, who pumped the water

or the water itself from the lake, from the glaciers, from the sky,
from the molecules of the big bang.

The realization boggles my mind,
how inextricably connected all things are in every twist and turn.

Mourningsong

There is sadness in my head,
both old and new, and a longing
for the way things used to be.

There is sorrow in my eyes,
blurring all the special times
that used to bring me tranquility and joy.

There is fear in my heart,
making me cower behind
all the unfixable mistakes of the past.

But, there is also mystery in my soul,
that tries its best
to keep a spark of hope alive.

And, there is life in me yet,
that struggles to be set free
and change my mourning into song.

What makes you so happy, little winged ones?
What fills your hearts with songs?

Is it the morning sun?
Is it the offered seeds?

Are you singing to your mates,
or your chicks, or your God?

I wish I could understand you,
so I too could sing a joyful morningsong.

Hm?

Some people are arrogant
thinking they know everything.

Am I arrogant
thinking I know nothing?