quenched
In Egypt there is the Nile, which flows through an otherwise desert.
I dig a long canal so it will come to my field,
while the workers in the city build the tallest skyscraper yet.
With the sunlight smothering me, I am forced to look down,
but it makes no difference to me; my work is on the ground.
To create is a way out of the darkness.
The walls of the city will fall,
and I must be ready for what will come through.
I am just like anyone else.
Often my head is filled with the news from the world,
conversations I’ve had, imbalances in my relationships.
It is easy to forget myself.
When I am away too long, my judgment gets bad,
like I’ve been walking without looking in front of me.
You can only do this for so long until you stumble.
All this because I worry about time.
How long it takes to do things, how much is left,
when or if something will occur.
Time is the mood you end up with late at night;
it can be planned but not foreseen.
When you are away from someone a while,
does the memory sour, or sweeten?
That should tell you something.
After the Sun went down,
I remembered some old regret,
and lamented that I was too old
to make it right,
but not too old to forget.
It’s 3:02 am.
My life must be art,
and my thirst
must be fully
quenched
every so often.
~
2024 + 2026