The blogging gurus tell me I only have 5 minutes of your time. And I try to respect that. But then I think about all the other things we give 10 minutes and more too, and, well, I get jealous. If I could figure out how to compete with your favorite sitcom, or the 3 hours movie special, I would attempt to pour into your soul the value of contemplation, and the richness found in knowing the truth about yourself, and the ultimate Truth.
I would aim to be the distraction worthy of your break from other distractions…
To the untrained ear it could come in a petri dish of thick silence, an orgasmic epiphany, or reality dawning after a long numbing night…
Even if you just gave me 3 minutes, I would try to baptize your soul in a sea of words, holding you under the tow, long enough to hear the popping of your conscience, the calling of your better angels, the dull pounding of your heart, and the longing of your soul. Finally allowing the buoyancy of deaths tart taste to push you up. You would re-emerge french kissing the sky. Reborn. Thirsty.
And if you only had a minute, for somethings only minutes can hold, we would tiptoe through the cemetery, and count the limp bundles of crayola leaves as they crown the tombs of differed dreams. Wet with the due of regret and tears. We would want to leave, but we would stay, breathing in the truth of this moment. Of our life…
And maybe I would fail; for I too need these minutes. These moments of infinite possibilities.
#Life
Featured Photo by: h.koppdelaney
Written by Veron Graham
Topics: Blog, Prose Poetry