Franks Psychiatry 4 #62: meandering journey

this one's a story
about traveling
and never really knowing
where
until arrival

only to find
that it's time again
to keep moving on
in a restless way
that’s littered with small
shining gems of meaning
waiting to be stumbled upon
if your eyes
stay fixed
firmly on the ground

pick a day

pick any shining day
you like
you might choose the one
we just had
why not
it was bright
and the sun rose

there was a woman in my hands this morning
I had to tell her
that she was welcome here
but that there really wasn’t much
I could do

her ills and ails
were beyond my reach and ken
but I would do all that I knew how

she smiled

it took away her pain
for the moment that we shared
and my incompetence
was a thing we could both laugh about

the light of truth
was more palatable
than the darkness
of yesterday

sometimes I think
the only thing there is
that keeps us hanging on
and clinging to the shining thread
is the laughter
that emerges from the night
when we speak honestly

I'm sorry
I've meandered
but this is still a traveling poem
and I am moving to another place

today it's true
I stopped awhile
but it was temporary

~