This eleventh month comes suddenly.
You notice the morning chill
but only remembered the night before.
Dawn is the lifeline connecting
what you avoid and all you face.
Daily, hourly, incrementally towards full sun,
or a reasonable facsimile.
Daily it changes, the hour uncertain,
we split our time between the gentle
light of the moon and the day’s reflection
of the silent senseless wonder
Memories capsized, plans revert to
what we don’t know and never expect
Anticipation. The confluence of influence
undeniably intricate.
Once force to another, a morning
monopolizing time. Night a natural
state of wonder, senseless as it seems.
November brings us closer to the edge
of a new year. All we can do is wait.
In the bigger picture there is love. In this life there is evil, hatred, and death. Even greater misfortunes compound and threaten our existence. Inconceivably so. Wars rage against humanity, our prayers for peace continually ignored. I cannot understand what I can do. Unfortunate we can’t feel it all, or feel at all, through the depths of desolation and abomination we read about or view on technicolor screens within our comfortable existence on this side of the planet. This uncomfortable world. I feel hopeless when I want to feel love. Hatred has spread like ash across the globe with a greater vengeance than the fires that consumed us throughout the year. Fingertips trace our hopes, deftly scratching the surface, a dignified definition we can only dream on. The climate has changed geopolitically and environmentally. I can’t understand the cause. I cannot comprehend the convictions. Humankind needs to scratch deeper; we need to feel. We cannot accept that which we do not understand. I can only want love, even more than peace. I hear the cries, even from a distance. Still, we watch. And still we wait, understandably so.
Silently, or suspiciously standing in one place, in between unsteady steps I take throughout the day. Waiting, even for a moment. Respite for the time being, perhaps, not even knowing why. Questioning, unquestionably, each of us continuously striving to keep moving at our own pace, Caught up in this human race, surviving, maybe thriving as we try to determine the flow we know is best. We think. A little later today, earlier for some, we all have a path; a better way, leading to better day. Moving in different directions, sometimes hastily, as required. Some of us are simply limping along. The weight on our shoulders slows us down. We must, once in a while, stop and let it settle. Far more than waiting. Unconscious thinking, our minds move, even if our feet are firmly planted. Progress not always certain, we can only hope our intentions continue propelling us further. It has to be more than hope, yet we still we try to keep it all in stride.
I hear you, more than I listen to myself. Messages of caution or concern, statements of grace, sentiment not fallen on inattentive ears.
The words we can, the words we must, the words we say. The words we trust
And this. And we, are we even comfortable with our vocabulary? Do we know or can we tell, right words from the wrong?
Conversation or confrontation, depending on your situation, those same words mean something else to someone else. It’s becomes even more difficult to tell.
The words we say. The words we hear, spell out misunderstanding. Injustice. Pain or fear
Shared experience, descriptions, details, doubt and deception at times difficult to put into words. Our emotions demand that they must.
Honesty is what it is, as it has always been, but spoken less and less more and more. It matters not how you express yourself, only that you do.
This eleventh month comes suddenly.
