Two people that are faithful to each other’s writing. And they are both worthy of one another. I find them beautiful.
… and silent; and silence is not always a bad thing. And silence is not always a good thing. I’m late, and I’m silent, and my brilliant and beautiful wife has stumbled into slumber, which is a rational thing to do. There was some kind of get-to-gether last night all over the continent, and their focus was to turn their clocks back one hour. I was convinced to jump in on the madness, and that might be why I’m really tired and it is only 11:02 pm. Seems later. Apparently we were all supposed to “fall back” …
My (currently silent) partner, just broke her silence from her slumber and told me respectfully, “Its time to stop your computing, Dear. Its time to go to bed. So, I guess I will end with … Find your voice; rejoice; pray and listen. This week grab wisdom, and don’t be stupid. Peace, you guys,
Links to read more about them. The writer: Find your voice, find your voice and listen The poet: Just what time is it anyway With special thanks to The Mirror Obscura for pointing Book of Pain. Photo credit: Helium.com
Silence is neither always good nor bad,
but it is what clings to you late into the night.
My settled wife has stumbled into settled slumber,
a rational thing to do I’d agree, but still,
here I am, bone weary, too drained to get up and join her.
The continent this night got together to turn their clocks
upside down and backside front, and—convinced as I was
to connive in on the madness—I think that explains me
somehow: I was supposed to fall back and apparently I did,
because whatever time it is, it’s too late for me now.
“Dear, come to bed.”
Find your voice. Rejoice. Pray and listen.
This week grab wisdom and don’t be stupid.
I went to bed.