The validation of all a person, another human,
can mean to another....
may only be felt.
Men have emotions: deep emotions, not singular either.
The setting: (Provisions Bakery & Deli in a sleepy Ohio town, waking up amongst sweet smells of baked goods and people coming and going. Two tables over a venerable elder sits, walking-stick stretched out on right of table. As a dawning, attention is transformed, the table has become an altar: his wife is framed in a small 3x5 window in the center of that flat square. Three empty chairs surround the small table. "Tuesdays through Saturday--it's my morning ritual," he almost has an apologetic tone. It's Friday.)
Across the span of something we might call, Occupancy, that transitory reality
has dictated a type of musical chairs.
One two three or more. Twenty or more filled with family and friends,
today just one chair, yes...
One today. A profound story contained in a simple frame
upon the small wood square--a remembrance.
Some look for the sacred beneath steeples:
I merely had to glance over my shoulder--two tables over.
We are all guests at the table of life,
now approaching 9 billion frolicking guests.
We are worried, not about sufficient space around the table, no, no, no...
We worry should we be remembered or not.
If a singular sample shows aught, then it may be
more true that someone will remember us.
One remembrance...
One may suffice.
Comments
Post a Comment
Speak your mind.....