2001-08-20 - 10:12 p.m.
WHEN THE BOW BREAKS
When did she leave me?
At what point did I become transparent to her?
How did I loose the dream-maker, and why?
These are the questions that go unanswered.
The empty mattress next to me is cold each morning now.
Her robe still hangs there on the porcelain hook I gave her.
My eyes red with tears from the rental movie searches the room for my glasses
I see no better with them, not as clearly as when she was with me
My horizons seem too distant now.
The warm summer breeze grows cold with the approaching autumn
The college football games hold promise of new loves for her
As I prepare to rebuild the shattered dream she left behind.
A thousand miles and the journey would be complete
Five hundred days have come to an end
And 27 genes short of my daughter still to meet.
I had a daughter for a moment there.
I cared for her, as would a father dare
And I cried as a Dad loosing his only one.
She gave form and life to the dream.
She gave it a voice and a sweet song
She made it seem so possible – It was wrong.
It must feel terribly weird and awkward to her now
To have this ancient fossil remnant hanging about.
Unable to explain its origins nor its purpose nor it at all.
Go away. Push away. Be away. Stop!
Hide yourself from the vision, and dismiss him. Go!
Useless as an empty can of beans.
Toss it to be recycled among the other broken dreams.
"I won’t feel guilty, shamed or stayed.
I won’t be responsible for his life
I was too young to know the mess I made."
And so the morning light shines brightly through the windowpane
The songs of birds sing again
And Life goes on – hurting me but forcing me to rise once more.
She was married this weekend -- married to a new life with new hopes and new dreams...
