There are some things that give time back to me
And others that steal it away,
Like a thief in the night.
My friend’s hospital appointments with all the -ologists,
Stealing the life they are so carefully trying to save.
My latest contract for work that I don’t really believe in,
Which I’m doing to put bread on the table.
I have the impression that these things are robbing us of life?
I strike a match
The candle is lit
We let the silence fall.
Disturbed waters still.
I hear a bird sing in the distance,
Breathe in the delicate aroma of my tea,
Hands warmed by the mug.
My shoulders drop, burden loosening;
Nous sommes arrivés
We have arrived;
Brought back to ourselves
Here there is life, healing, peace.
Here, the present that was always ours to live is ours once again.