Poetry

It is a Covid socially distanced meeting.

Each week in the back of our vans.

We sit with a coffee and talk.

For sanity’s sake.

We have an unexpected visitor.

The caws are answered by my friend.

We feel blessed and hope

this week it visits us again.

Religion is a main part of life.

Whether we go to church,

meditate

or simply honor those who came before us.

What we do in our hearts is reflected

in our everyday actions.

No one knows what happens after death

but how we live until then

that is our major accomplishment.

I hope we all live a good life.

No matter what we choose to believe.

The cat curls up on my chest.

The purrs rumble loudly

before slowly dying down.

She stretches and yawns

before ambling towards my legs.

There she curls up next to me.

As I fall asleep she comforts me

and I her.

In these days where we can not hug our friends

I am thankful for this small mercy

wishing those who don’t have a pet

at least have someone.

Someone who can bring them comfort.

It is hard.

So hard.

To tear yourself away.

Fascinated you want to stay.

Logic demands you leave.

Or at least look away.

Yet somehow you remain.

Lost and full of wonder.

Colourful masks

that scare the viewer.

Dreamers wander

unsure of the meaning.

Secrets scattered

the truth will not be found.

Not by the ones

whose memories are long lost.

A holiday special.

Thanksgiving will pass.

Easter far in the future.

Ramadan is a fasting feast.

Solstice breathes new life.

Mawlid el-Nabi read the teachings.

Hanukkah lights the candles.

Zarathostht Dios remembers the end.

Rohatsu meditates on the spirit.

All ways to be faithful.

Christ preached tolerance and acceptance.

Accept the blessing my friend.

Any knowledge is good knowledge.

Curiousity is not what killed the feline.

Ignorance is numbing and not bliss.

But the truth is warped and twisted.

Closed minds refuse to see what is open.

So what is called fake needs to be inspected.

Funny how these days we live in a world of easy access

and yet live to lock ourselves

in our very warm blanket of small comforts.

Upon understanding

why

the feelings of worthlessness

flood in.

Yet, you are not to blame.

Guilt has no place here.

It will try to have you blame yourself

for all the wrongs

that you could not control.

As for the ones you could,

mistakes are for learning from

and then

moving forward from there.

The tears still come

but I am not ashamed of them.

I can sympathize with his state

and the unnatural pressure

he must endure

as we figure out what is causing

his pain.

But when he describes the symptoms

all I can do is giggle

and tell him

every single eighth month pregnant woman

knows exactly how he feels.

Give or take the pain.

Crisis averted.

Hospital trip not necessary.

Diagnosis understood.

Dietary changes enforced.

Unhappy but alive.

He still breathes

but now without pain.

Still I tease him.

That he just wanted to see me earlier

than usual this weekend.