Atmospheric Entry

Yourself as a whole
Hit my planet
As a comet
Plummeted from the heavens.

Myself as a giant rock
Could either envelop you
Or be destroyed
Into pebbles of my former self.

The impact of your hit
Has shook me to the core
And has quaked my mantle
With a new atmospheric pressure.

Although my surface material
Remains as it was before
There is a definite hole
That leads to my core.

Now only time will tell
If your material
Is docile
Or destructive.

Comments

Washboard Blues

My favourite saying of late Is that I wanna cry. The world has been crumbling around The people The state of affairs The disbelief. I say the words Jokingly But there's a piece of me That would kindly accept A tear... Or two. There have been more days Than less That I could use a reset button. I would start it all again, There are times where I regret Everything. If I wanted to live with no regrets I probably could have done more I probably could have said more I should have meant more. Morbidity Mortality Time... All things weighing me down. There's this sudden end It's coming soon Sooner for some Not soon enough for others But it's coming. If I was to go right now Away Gone Left it all behind... I don't want anyone to think of me After the fact. I don't think many will Some might A passing glance Something to do But I'll be gone Somewhere more To where I'm supposed to be. Africa Asia Europe Or Beyond. I haven't quite decided Yet But I will.

Snowy Interval

Our winter is right around the corner And the thought takes me back To when we found ourselves Last time around In the coldest of days. Even in those harshest of elements In the coldest of all the months I couldn't feel the chill Because between your smile and your words They were the best of days. And just like the unpredictable Alberta weather The storms rolled in I tried to stand my ground Withstand the worst of what it could throw Until I found the peace to know the storm was me. The summer months were devastating The air was dry The sun was unrelenting It was a record year But the chill in the empty hole was all I knew. The leaves have been falling awhile The mind wanders when unchecked Smelling the weather changing Has the heart reeling For another one of those great snowy intervals.

Not Yet

I'm trying to resist It shouldn't really happen I don't even know for sure. It's a good thing Not knowing keeps me from falling Too far from too much.

Scribblings of the Opiated Sherpa

Search This Blog