There Comes A Time

A half glass of warm beer sits just to the left
of a pile of scattered newspaper crumpled just enough
to see a half page of an Obituary; someone has ran out of time
today/no chance to open their eyes again to breathe
into another day/no chance to speak into silence
and to pause another moment.
I lay on a couch wasting my own hours
pretending not to be afraid to let this all leave me/
all of this/that makes my presence matter --

it is during these times that I hesitate
to take the small things in life for granted. My thoughts
are thirsty for a sip of recognition. The phone is not ringing/
haven’t rang all day--
the faucets are not dripping, the clock isn’t ticking/the battery
has died and I haven’t dusted
the framed memories hanging on my walls in days.

I wonder who is thinking about me;
I wonder who speaks my name
and who reminders a chance we spent together;
I wonder who inhales the scent from the aroma
of my mind and I wonder who hears the vibrations
echoing from the stairways of my heart
because there comes a time where we must
embrace every fabric of our human existence
and rejoice in the interaction of each other
because what is here today can be gone tomorrow

I’ve learned quickly nothing in this world
is meant to last forever except the footprints
we plant in each soul we touch through existence.
I lay on a couch surrounded by comfort
as I enjoy all that is around me
because there comes a time where we must
appreciate and value the small things; the flaws,
the absences and the daily mess of creation
that makes us relevant and remembered.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan
(Tears Of A Poet)