Sunday, October 31, 2010
Are You Useful? Can I Be Of Service?
Hold out your hands, we have many gifts to give. Your baleful choices are finally paying off. Like manna from heaven, so are our offerings, in which your chances can only improve. Years ago, the old man told me a story about a family born from pain and left to suffer in anonymity. We are far too old to be making these mistakes anymore. Cross the threshold and find redemption? Aren't we crossed and bound by custom? Please, check my pulse if you don't believe me. It beats against the sound of rain on the windowsill outside. I have nature in my veins, thrusting forth with wild abandon. There is nothing left to say, except, it is time for me to be moving on. Out the door, I turn to see you choking back your tears. It has been a lonely winter. I am sorry I have to be the one to take these first steps. Please allow me these trespasses. With time you will forget, I will forget, we will both be forgotten.