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Friday, April 12, 2013
Poem of the Day - Therapy
Short again, today. Xander spent the night and I worked early this morning, so fatigue and burning eyes are my afternoon tea. I’ve done some sketching earlier but turn to an older poem for today’s entry. It’s a poem written during a darker time. I can’t help thinking about the darker moments in my life, still garnering their lessons and comparing them to now. It does no good to deny they happened. It gives perspective to say others suffered much darker times than I ever have, but the truth is that when I was going through them, I could not see past them. This poem reflects that. That, and the fact that help is always there, just not immediately effective.
/Sitting in an office, waiting,
/like a corn fed box of snails.
/I’ve gone postal to myself,
/emotional tsunami crashing.
/I need help. Time. Peace.
/I catch them in snippets, but
/each time I grasp one in sweaty hands,
/it slips away again, and life
I was born in Holland in 1950. My parents immigrated to the US when I was two. I have many close friends and family on both continents. My wife Diane and I have been happily married since 1974. I have four children and one grandchild (two more are on the way). I love writing and sharing what I wrote most of all..