The Lessons and The Teachers

by jimowensjr

When the tears won’t

come

or the ache won’t

leave;

 

When that

hollow

cavernous place,

deep within in my belly,

cannot

be

filled;

 

When everything,

everything,

that once was is now nothing,

nothing more than a memory,

taunting;

 

When the road before me seems like  an

endless,

barren,

desert,

and when my restless thoughts

are but a frightened mare,

racing,

racing blindly,

alone,

alone into the darkness;

 

And when, for a moment,

just one moment,

I think I hear that voice,

and my heart leaps,

and I’m suddenly awash,

bathed in hope,

hearing the vague tune of

reprieve;

 

Or when familiar footsteps are

nothing,

nothing more than deceit,

the vain deceit

of

unfulfilled dreams;

 

And when grief,

wretched beautiful grief,

swells within me,

like the

boiling

hot

waters

of some fissure far beneath the surface,

waiting,

waiting to erupt;

 

I know.

Yes.

Yes, I know.

 

And somehow,

Somehow,

despite it all,

I smile,

overwhelmed with gratitude,

gratitude for these lessons

and

for the ones who taught them.

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