Go long, my friend, go long!

 In this strange "no man's land" interval of a deadly pandemic,

As I leave the shores of the old normal and set out for the new,
I realize that when I am fast asleep, there is another me,
On the other side of the world, toiling upward through the night.
The ticking clock is my tormenter as I get longer in the tooth,
And struggle to improvise, adapt, and survive for one more day.
The chaotic world of now is like being invited to a football game
And discovering that the seat assigned to me is inside the football.
To and fro I go, and I look for the wide receiver Lickety Split.
It would make perfect sense if only I were in a cartoon.
Tom and Jerry, the Roadrunner, and Bugs Bunny would agree,
And certainly Fred Flintstone, and Mister Peabody would too.
I try to solve my problems by staring at them intently,
But that doesn't seem to work without animation. Imagine that!
So what is the way out of this chaotic and horrible mess?
My Creator whispers in my ear, "A touchdown, of course!
Go for a Hail Mary pass and your faith will save you,
Remember your option of Eternal Life with me in Paradise."
Says I, "Oh Lord amen to that!" Go long my friend, go long!

.

Making payments...

Upon the misty pane of my window to the world,
The scattering of troubles are like drops of rain.
The drops run down and slide around and some collide,
Then suddenly halt, one a splotch the other a blur.
Reality is hard to fathom through the foggy glass,
And I can hardly see through all those tears.
From inside out I peer with glum forbearance,
Yet I still have hope that the sun will come again,
Until that day when its account is low on funds,
And it stops making payments...

.

To those who are high and mighty:

For those who fall down low from high places,

How difficult it is for them to learn the language

Of humility, poverty, and servility.

They must learn to meet the eyes that reject them,

And say "Thank you" to whatever fate offers them.

They must learn to bow their heads and genuflect,

And learn to let insults pass, and to smile like a simpleton.

Yes, Mr. and Mrs. High & Mighty,

This could even happen to you.

.

My moonlight shadow and I.

The bright moon, my moonlight shadow, and I,

Up there along the silver river of the Milky Way,

My thoughts of sadness drain away among the stars,

And I think of my mother, Armella,  and our old home.

My mother and I, though separated by time and space,

Would always meet in the light of the full moon,

She, at her window, and I at mine, and there

We would chat heart to heart with no words needed.

Tonight the moon is full and she is in Heaven.

We still heart-to-heart in the light of the moon,

When we both lean out of the open window,

Bathed in the glow of the understanding moon,

And we are connected again in spirit for a while.

I yearn to cross that heavenly river to hug my Mom.

"Not yet," she says, "Not yet, but soon, be patient.

In the sweet bye and bye we'll be together again."

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