Waking on a Wednesday Afternoon


Well there you were for sure, not going anywhere

You had all the time in the world, now

Just lying there, still as a stone in the river

Never moving while we sat around waking you

The only sounds the damn clock 

ticking, telling the opening seconds 

Of your eternity, forever nothingness.


Such cosmic provocation, ripping into veins, 

Tearing at our guts and reason,

Our tears, trying, proving the living

our words failing our shock

Urgent in our need to salve, protect,

Do in the face of grave undoing.


Arrested by your love 

To commune, embrace your truth

empty out the ocean of our grief

And wake again.

 © Philip Knight 2018