Saturday, July 12, 2014

A reluctant tongue

A reluctant tongue                                                         

I wish, at times, I could go the rest of my life
uttering not a word, only essential,

handwritten notes or perhaps an alphabet board,
to preserve not my silence but, my solitude.

There’s safety in solitude.
It’s so wearisome – at times – the vigilance,

tolerating any other’s presence.
We embrace as the waltz begins.

I try to follow the music;
my body fails to cooperate.

My knees stiffen.  Poise deserts me.
I clump along praying for the song to end.

How often I have prayed to be different than I am.
The angel at the gate, (answers my Lord),

is on the lookout for a slim, timid man
with bum knees and a reluctant tongue.

O child of God, play the part as written.
Every element serves the plot.

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