Sometimes in the moment, I need to put thoughts on paper or, more correctly, type thoughts on a computer screen. These past couple of years have been trying to say the least. Covid did no one who loves any favors as people that once surrounded me are now gone. And not by choice. I wish I had the ability to grant reunions from the beyond, but I don’t. It seems like life is an incredible circle of bliss and agony that yields a path for redemption—somewhere.
Moving forward is all I can do, just like everyone else. So I type thoughts to the computer screens. Like so many years ago, Shareca saw me “writing in the dark.” Those quiet moments in surroundings of excitement gave pause to me now as I reflect so long ago in what the old me would express as “times of good.”
The main thing I learned from Popa is to always look forward and never dwell backward. That line of thinking served me well, very well in not succumbing to grief. I honestly do not think I have it in me to dance in despondency, and I do not have the constitution to allow me to do that. I can thank my parents for that, and I can honor the Most High for such an understanding of life and universal existence. I guess I’m just the dreamer, a far cry from the intellectual goliath known as my brother, yet still, I am here.
I will always be here.
My loved ones wish it to be so.
The song of amani
I happen so suddenly,
Upon winds from the south…
It appears like snowflake falls,
Loving cinnamon tea drops,
You want everything jazz,
Challenging the quiet times
Nothing puts forth mercy as you say I love you.
Forever changes my thoughts towards forever,
The song of amani
Echoes from Florida
It just echoes incessantly,
Beckons me to answer,
but I cannot,
and I never will.