This man
I wake up mornings curious as to who I will find.
Will I find the person filled with the dreams of the night?
Dreams of flying, like Icarus, too close to the sun?
Will I find the man who inextricably knows the universe is living within?
An old man who by his choices over the years lives alone?
A man willing to risk vulnerability and, thus wholeness?
Another year pulls me toward it.
I will not be the same man I was when 2018 exerted a similar pull.
That was just yesterday. Right?
What shoes?
Will I be walking toward or running from?
Here today,
This man who greets winter mornings.
Him and not him
Me and not me.
More than and less than.
This man.
Written December 28, 2018
Jimmy F Pickett
I wake up mornings curious as to who I will find.
Will I find the person filled with the dreams of the night?
Dreams of flying, like Icarus, too close to the sun?
Will I find the man who inextricably knows the universe is living within?
An old man who by his choices over the years lives alone?
A man willing to risk vulnerability and, thus wholeness?
Another year pulls me toward it.
I will not be the same man I was when 2018 exerted a similar pull.
That was just yesterday. Right?
What shoes?
Will I be walking toward or running from?
Here today,
This man who greets winter mornings.
Him and not him
Me and not me.
More than and less than.
This man.
Written December 28, 2018
Jimmy F Pickett
RSS Feed