All the days you believe won’t come – They do.
Then they leave quick and abandon you entirely, never promising a damn thing.
You are left with the dishes and the baby and the same scratch of beard that you’ve known for years.
Picking up a sponge ain’t much to picking up and leaving. My heart thrives restless even as I grow old.
There is adventure here. Here. Here in these words. These.
If you can force them from your throat, early in the morning – If you can lift your head and see eternity in the gait of small boy walking in whichever direction you point him.
Today is the day. The one you’ve counted down to and watch the seconds tell you would never come. Be ready for the Bridegroom because today is it. Today.
The water flows from tap to cup and turns to wine.