CAMELOT FANTASIES

Aching and hungry for light,
I bid the sun, “Good morning.”
“Good riddance, endless night.”

Birds, full of optimism, chitter.
The traffic buzzes its rush hour song.
The station wagon door opens
and plops the newspaper on the cement next door.
The door slams. The old engine vrooms.
Another normal day.

“How can it be so,” I ask no one in particular,
For in truth, I am alone.
The pain that cut my gut, only an hour before, is lesser in the day.
“Unfair,” I had shouted.
“Untrue.”
“Lies.”
The dark had listened.
The light only laughs it all away.

As I dress, exhausted from lack of sleep, I day-dream of something more.
Of laughter.
Of knowing.
Of letting go.
Of acceptance.
Of sleeping without anger.
Of waking in joy.

“You suck, God, you know that, right?”
He laughs.
“It’s not funny.”
And I know, he knows that
it is not funny.

There is tragedy in my life.
And sadness.
But tremendous joy.
“Would you have it any other way?” He asks.
“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”
“I thought not.”
Feed the cats, make an egg, drive to work, sit in cube.
Normal stuff.

Maybe tonight I will forgive, and sleep.
Maybe not.