Wednesday, the fifth...concerning the 27th
Wednesday happened along in a somewhat pre-arranged way,
not necessarily happy about it.
The sun stumbled, like a drunk with a hangover, across the cluttered sky.
And a man, perplexed, looked around and wondered why...
A squirrel pranced in front of an on-coming van, failing to grasp
the physics of the moment.
The radio blathered mind-numbing non-sensical noise
And I've given up trying to figure out if it means anything.
Trouble arrays itself, encompassing one's life---gone is the laugh.
"Maybe's" are never enough to hold onto, and I wonder what it means
To hold onto Jesus when muddy tears replace the eyes' gleam.
Sorrow never leaves its old haunts'
And misery, though so gaunt, remains a stalwart foe.
Fear casts its cloak around my shoulders as I slog
through the foggy cypress swamp.
The stinking black mud imperils each footstep,
as I furtively glance back for the coming alligators.
Exhaustion cuffs me upside my head, throwing me into the muck
like a discarded rag doll.
The fear of what is behind drives me on as I grab for a log,
dragging myself into a thicket of grass, hoping to
hide from the assailants
only to find that I have disturbed an alligator nest....
Get up.....Get up.....Get up! I have to find my way back.
They still need me.
Is that a lantern glowing on the fern-dressed ridge?
What!? A beautiful lady in lively colors
holding high the light?
Her features are smooth and clear.
(does she not know the dangers here?)
She fastens her eyes on me and now a smile appears.
Gasping through parched lips, I will my wearied muscles
to ignore the pain of the cuts and bruises
and drag my remnants amidst the tangled undergrowth,
bringing my reviled self to her feet.
I weep as my wife kneels down and holds my swamp-encrusted
body to her chest as she whispers,
And from her heart spill tears that wash my face....