My babies - last of the Mohiccans

Friday, February 17, 2017

Day 1

He woke up at five,
she was all over his mind.
The weekend was here,
it was time to rest
before diving into reading
and his writing started.

She was rolling
under her quilt,
pondering whether
God existed or not.
And, if he really did,
was he needed at all.

And he contemplated
If there would be a response
from an expected source.
What would he say?
How would he deny?
The thought of death,
shadowed across
his mind.
Was it near or
was it far away?
He wanted to live
for her.

She wondered
if sentences were real.
Did they exist or not?
And the question popped
up in her mind;
Do we like something
because its beautiful?
And do we like it
just for ourselves
in a selfish way?

And his mind wandered
to his own flesh and blood.
What would she do after him?
Will she survive independently?
Does she have the courage?
Surely, she will miss him.
But would he even know?
There was no way to tell.
Only time will decide.

And she has a sister,
who needs his help.
He wants to lead her,
out of her quandary.
But it seems a tangled web
that will take some effort
to unwind
and play itself out.

Day rolls on,
night unfolds.
A party.
The longing to be close
was never more needed
than now.
A hug and clasp
under his quilt.
If only she was here?
She said “yes",
“me too”.
They pondered.
And that was all
they could muster.
Even though
minds sought more.
It was time to rest
Until the morrow.
Good Night sweetness!