Friday, June 22, 2018

Never . . .


Problem is, I didn't do it
When he was around
For whatever reason
My own discomfort
My excuses about the time
My self-consciousness
My lack of 'closeness' to him

And now I can only speak to the cosmos
With the knowledge that
While my words are not in vain
There is no mortal being there
To receive, comprehend and accept
Any thoughts, words, comfort or appreciation

But my breath is not wasted on the cosmos
My words are disbursed among the infinite intelligence,
consciousness or universal presence
So while it may seem to me
To be too late to offer anything
I hope, in my great deep-down,
That is really isn't
And I say to myself once again
As I always have in these situations
That I promise to never do that again


Too Long

©2018 Raymond M. Jozwiak



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