Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Not Really a Love Letter



by Kathy Davis

As I lie here still and hearing my own breath envelop me with thoughts on living and all of the tomorrows I dream of and
cling to, I pray as one small voice in a sea of millions who may even need you more, yet I call to you more than ever for you to teather me to this painfully beautiful place. Sustain me please a while more, maybe even years please for there is someone I must reach with whom I must share the first crisp bit of autumn in the air and behold the silent and soft falling of first snow in front of a fire.

I clutch my heart with my right hand curled and tense as if I can will away my vulnerability and I humble myself for i am just one human in a hospital room,in a bed alone with my thoughts. The ceiling spins around and the day and the night and my all my feelings blend as a kaliedescope and I cannot separate myself from my fear.

This could be, might be, the sentence that each of us secretively braces against. I think of all of the unspoken words I intended to say,yet held back because I might have been judged dramatic, yet now I could care less about be judged for I only want my loved ones to know how much they mattered and how tough I once was and how humbled I am by my world spinning and when the spinning stops there is somebody I just have to reach. Dear Lord please. Please just deliver me and all will be well and my prayers answered.