“Two is better than one”
taunted the toothless old man dressed in black rags.
But what may be true for gain
is never true for loss.
And from his heart’s secret chamber
he painfully remembered the rich poverty of zero.
Blinded by the sun, I trip and begin a fall I cannot stop.
Bloodied and battered by jagged edges I cannot see,
Terrified by the quickening pace of a descent I cannot control
I await my end and pray for a miracle.
Life happens while you wait.
Standing on an endless line -
the heavens pass,
the stars flare, then disappear,
dreams come and go.
And we,
numb and blind
see only glimpses of all these wonders -
only snippets of all that glory.
