Connectivity

I wait.
Eyes glued; thoughts pegged.
Horizon’s taunt line stretching east to west,
Perpendicular to any
Embrace.

You
A distant land,
A Scarcity,
Took your share and
Left behind
Fortune’s Father.

My son,
Now wedded with dirt,
Disease, Disgust and
Disillusionment –
Categorical imperatives shucked,
Full of yourself; into your depth,
But,
No more.
Now, you remember…

The embrace waits,
Inside empty rooms.
Outside, it searches,
Scanning the baseline of hope:
Another day dawns,
(With no shadow of turning)
Wearied arms upheld,
Unflinching,
Open.

You remember.
(Your once homeless haven,
Reimbursed with madness,
Is now rejected.)
You return.
You repent.
You begin to resign yourself,
But,
Interruption:
A ring,
A reservation for a feast-
Solid food, meat and drink-
“A son who was lost but now has come home.”

We begin again, but,
Not where we left off.
You are not the same person,
And I,
Must change –
Make space for you –
For your embrace,
Is meat and drink,
From Someone,
To,
Me.

© Sally Paradise, 2011, All Rights Reserved

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