Volume 23, Number 134,
The Silent Season!
by Richard David Briggs
Dedicated to those who are still searching
Happy heart flutters!
Smile gratefully at the bright rising sun!
Seventy-seven-year-old-calcified kneecaps bend.
Legs lug me to familiar servant-kitchen.
Cataract fuzzy eyes find hot water kettle.
Fingers fumble to plug it in.
Actually, do hear water boil!
Coffee made, languidly gaze out at World’s Window.
Sleepy laden lids squint.
Spot honking migrating geese southward bound
So sure, so filled with life! ... Ah so wonderfully young!
Yes Darwin, “The strongest shall survive!”
But not all of your theory was correct!
As you knew crying out to God on your deathbed
That accident and mutation could not explain His creation!
And You - cruel cold autumn’s breeze
Ripping off fading leaves from timeworn apple tree
Predestined to fall helplessly to death below.
My offended soul stirs, clutches - even repents;
Nagging hot tears slide down my cheeks!
Now in Winter’s silent season of my life:
“Lord! What is your purpose for this Old Man upon such a fine day?”