WHAT SAYS TIME?

Whatever were we discussing when papa said; time will tell?

Who? That old man by the doors of past, present and future?

I set out to get the old man to tell me what he knew.

He sat unmoving with his eyes glazed over. Not a muscle did he move.

He was boring and he wouldn’t even speak to me.

When I woke, the door to the past had been closed never to be opened.

Through the cubbyhole I could see the fading light behind the door.

The fading light of my memories.

What happened? When did it happen? Who closed the door?

He wouldn’t talk.

Well, when have you ever talked?

I will figure this out on my own.

 

The broken hearted and the grieved have said time heals all wounds.

Hogwash! He is the excuse we give to move on, to forget.

Now I understand.

When papa said time will tell, what he meant was; he didn’t know.

It is only when I trivialize the pain of my past that I get to smile at my present and laugh with hope over my future.

But wait oh.

The past took along with my pain, my happy moments.

He’s left me a clean slate to create new moments.

A cycle that never ends until I’m six feet down.

It would be tiring had I not been a glutton for life

But as I ponder this, I conclude that

Weary bones are a comfortable price to pay for all time has to teach.