A dimly lit porch on a weirdly hot autumn night; empty places I’ve been
Trains cutting the silence of night and chugging along in the dark
Going for miles and disappearing
Lights trailing off
Hanging outside of buildings and outlines of shadows
The burning desire to feel its solitude
The bleak quiet beckoning
Just for some silence
An ethereal solitude
Driving aimlessly in the dark but I don’t know what for
A time of patience, wondering along sleepy houses, and alongside the restless
Thinking of being somewhere else even when I’m around others, where, I don’t know
The stars of yesterday, the thoughts of today; dreams in the heads of others
Heat of the day, cool of the night; clouds of tomorrow
The remnant of another’s thought
Anxieties of yesterday are a curious blot on a trivia card
The life of today taken for granted
Dreams of things no longer tangible to the recollection
Another momentary conversation
The silence forces me to look around and contemplate it’s wordless reproach
The death of a dream personified in our expectations and aspirations influenced by the flesh
We truly face ourselves when those expectations fail us
Our actions are a reflection of ourselves which we cannot deny
Enjoy life for God’s sake and ask nothing more out of it but ask that of God.
Be faithful; die forgotten to man but known to God
''Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies’’ – The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
