22
December

Finding Rest – Rick Stephen

Finding Rest

I wonder if it is better
to die and have life cease
or to live, lifelessly,
without hope
to die ends all hope
but to live without hope
is much worse
and far more cruel
for in dying
there is rest from hope
but living without hope
this is not so
for to be human
is to have always
in the heart of hearts
the hope of hope,
the mere possibility
and so there is no rest
the hope of hope
is always there
teasing,
torturing
I understand now
why death
is euphemistically called
entering into eternal rest
I wonder which is better

2 comments

14
December

Alone In The Crowd – Rick Stephen

Large crowd of peopleI sat by myself
in a crowd today
just another seat
filled anonymously
not unlike
so many others around me
and a woman
somewhere near
wore your perfume
I knew it instantly
and as if by instinct,
breathing in deep,
I closed my eyes
and was taken away
the crowd vanished,
the din faded
and there I was
alone in the crowd
with you

5 comments

12
December

The Train Doesn’t Stop Here by Rick Stephen

train

Waiting at the depot
darkness having longed chased
the last tinge of color
from the inky-black sky
a darkness perforated only
by the brightest few stars

I stand here alone
it’s late,
damp and cold
a fog builds in the distance
my breath fills the air
with swirls and curls of mist
drifting before my face
that spread out, then vanish
I think to myself,
“Now there’s a metaphor!”
while turning up my collar
against the chill
a shiver runs down my spine
I’m not sure
if it’s from the cold
or the irony of the metaphor
I laugh under my breath

My eyes anxiously alternate
between the watch on my wrist
and the tracks off in distance
it’s late, dammit, it would be
it couldn’t be on time today
damn you, Murphy!

Still, I look
leaning over the edge of a platform
illuminated by a lone,
flickering floodlight
straining to spot,
hoping to see
the glint of a headlight
piercing the distant blackness
the first sign even before
the wail of a horn or
the sound of diesel or
the clack of unforgiving wheels
on cold, steel tracks
the first sign
that tells me my long, bleak,
wearisome wait
will shortly be over

6 comments

     

 
Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: