Twilight Fog

The day had warmed a bit, and the snow that had blanketed
the yards and fields began to disappear slowly. As vesper bells tolled and evening descended, a gentle fog enveloped all.

What else could this fog be, if not snowflake souls ascending?

* * *

Hearts Everywhere

It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m reminded there are hearts everywhere...
good and loving hearts. Oh, they may not be the happiest of hearts this moment, this day. Some may be feeling a bit beleaguered, a little tattered or somewhat torn. Some may be broken, others are worn, a few (or many) may be a mite lost...adrift...searching for safe harbor.

Still, the human heart is a magnificent thing. It beats on.

Hope clings to each and every beat.

* * *

* * *

Doing the Best I Can

I’m living the best I can...as a man who (not that long ago) woke each morning wondering...will this be the best day to die?

I’m listening the best I can...albeit with ears long ago deafened by diatribes, accusations and vilifications. Speak louder.

I’m loving the best I can...although I really don’t know what love is. Show me.

I’m hoping the best I can...all the while not knowing what to hope for.
Come to me in dreams.

I’m praying the best I can...although there’s no one listening.
Despite it all, I pray.

I’m doing the best I can...and praying I’ll do better. Bear with me.

* * *

Looking Back

* * *

I presume it’s only natural, once one reaches the "gray-hair" years,
to look back upon the love stories in one’s life. Well, natural for me, anyway.

The young have only fables, dreams and fantasies to contemplate. Not a bad state to be in, mind you, but it’s the realm of the young and the innocent. The gray-haired live in a different state.

It takes a few decades (a lifetime, actually) before fables morph to real-life drama, before our dreams give way to realities and our fantasies are displaced by facts. Whatever we dreamed “love” would mean, it turned out to be different, no?

What pains me the most, when I look back on my life and my own true love stories, is that I failed to realize my dreams...and my dreams were based on something real: my parents’ love story. The love my parents had for each other was so palpable and so enduring, that I assumed I could love, and be loved, the same. I had no idea it would be so hard, so confounding and draining. I failed in love in ways I never expected. I grasped for something I knew to be real...possible...
and came up empty-handed.

Funny how life works.

* * *

I'm in the Mood...

for a wee taste o' Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. You can join me, if you'd like.

(this one's for you, Brother Vid)

* * *