crack! snap! pop!
the unfurling of your bones
at the start of a new day make
you wince at the startling
clarity of the sounds --
a clean break of brittle
bone that is too tired
of life but too resistant
to die. and with this macabre
breaking that is almost
routine now, you hope that:
1. the ache will go away
after today, after you spend
another rotation of the earth
stumbling, bumbling around like
you've got a semblance of an idea
of what you want to do (you don't
really, because no one does).
2. soon you will find
respite for these weary bones hidden
under your skin and
carve a home into the earth for
which they can prosper and,
for once, start rebuilding instead
of constantly being ground down
into fine dust.
3. when you lay your
head upon the pillow tonight and
tremble in the midst of night
with a curious longing
in your veins for something more
-- though you do not know what,
exactly -- you will feel as if you were
made for better.
and suddenly!
to your exhausted bones,
the promise of a new beginning,
of a new day,
begins to sound like a sweet dream.
"oh, if i could only start over" --
of course you can, silly.
there is always tomorrow.