Granny Knows

Granny Knows

I hear granny speaking
Like a lonely voice from another room Chimming in every fifteen minutes on the hour
"Welcome home, welcome home"
And I remember when...

Today is here
Tomorrow gone
Those fleeting moments arise
Spontaneous time
Opportunities forgotten
Hope renewed
Regrets recycled as compost
From yesterday's news
Yet memory continues
Reshaping every mistake I've ever made
Striving for perfection
Yet finding rage
Because it is not within me.

I am a fractured piece of pottery
Thrown from a wheel
Baked, and polished
Then soiled
Washed again, and again in perpetuity
Screaming to be heard, and recognized!

I am that sentence striking a chord
Every day of my existence with a word
Noone else has heard
But granny knows my lament
Chimes in every chance she gets
As I pull on chains of perpetual motion
Of time, space, and gratitude.

D.A. Wittler  3/28/18 

..

Maybe I'm Just Getting Old

So it's 06:30 on a Saturday morning, and I'm wide awake. Nothing that a couple of beers, and pizza can do to ruin a good night's sleep, eh? Well, that's exactly how it has been since I realized I maybe just getting old. Even though I had every good intention of dozing off on the couch, the minute I crawled into bed the symptoms crept in with a tickle in the throat, and a third shifter's grin: “Yeah, right, I'm gonna sleep tonight.”

Thank God for Facebook, and a few thoughts that always seem to race into my mind when the moment calls, or I'd be sitting here staring at four walls, and desperation. So I guess it is time to make the best out of a typical situation, now that maybe I'm just getting old.

Maybe I've realized that it's not about the accumulation of years on these bones, but a lifestyle that has finally taken it's toll, or perhaps it's a little of both that made me roll out of a perfectly warm bed, and onto a wonderfully cold couch. Maybe I really am just getting old, who knows?

And then I reach a point on this solitary note that some things are inevitable, like having to run to the bathroom in the middle of the night. None the less, I wouldn't mind so much if that dream I was having would restart where it had left off, and I could slip back into slumber like I had hoped at 10:30 last night. Maybe I'm just getting old.

So, one last thought, perhaps not, perhaps a proper salutation like good night, or good day, good grief, it's only 6:48 in the morning, guess I'll stay up, and make coffee instead!