Harder to Hear

I am to speak to you.

So you might know where you are.

Who you were.

Where you are going.

I am to help you cross over.

Be it a path or your next stage.

I am the bard of this families age.

Appointed by happenstance.

As if I stepped in it.

A piece of gum on my shoe.

I can not shake it without you.

For we do this together.

This dance.

This going the distance.

We waver in our situations.

Flicker in our consciousness.

Over and over and over.

We followed our orders.

We played the cards we were dealt.

Where we were to end up no one knew.

We sit here, now, me and you.

A child, a man, all passing through.

Tethered to the ground by body.

A light within seeks peace.

A space to live and be

where there is no fear of recourse.

No anxiety of the wars we port

from one generation to another.

We are war.

We are peace.

We are all the paradox we teach.

We come into this world as we go.

A juxtaposition of the world we tried to know.

This miracle.

This breath.

This chance to sit and speak.

To look into each others eyes and repeat.

The three words we often hide and seek.

“I love you.”

Maybe even harder to hear.

Speak love and live it.

For that is all there is to preach.

For there is only now at last.

Seconds strung together from

infinite pasts, streaming

into the present.

Reaching for the future.

Passing through the hourglass.