Today Tumbled In

Today Tumbled In

(Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up. 4:10)

Today tumbled in, a set of dice determined my mood.
The sun is out late afternoon
dissolving the marine layer in its
yellow embrace.
But the roll of the dice told me
the pain was beyond bearable,
I put it all on the table
and wept the day away.

There are fault-lines you cannot see,
cracks that do not show
and I am tired of being strong when
I’m only leftover rain and a hurricane
quickly running out of courage.
Maybe I am blind.

Life is full of philosophy
until an unlucky family
deals with sudden death
and fatal illnesses.
Maybe I am shaken.

It baffles me,
maybe I mean only half of what I say,
and maybe I see less of what surrounds me.
Why do I wave friendly at neighbors
when the tears flowed just a moment before?

Today tumbled in; night will steal the mood,
replacing it with dreamscapes of fear or pleasure.
These are the days that I give up believing;
my opinions never changed the time of a single sunset.

I am old and life frightens me but occasionally
amuses me. Most often I let another well-constructed
syllogism fall on its face and other bodily unfunctions.

I am not strong. I am not certain.
I am only one late in life person
who hopes these days that seem so remote
from human connection
will not be the gamble they seem to be.

Tomorrow will tumble again. Know me, please,
God of numbers and ABCs, of
wisdom and idiosyncrasies
better than the crumpled pages
I have written upon.