I sit at the dinner table
in a room bedecked in age old history
Time is a frenzied whirlwind in my ears
Tearing past,
blurring colors and shapes in its frantic flight.
Nothing but a ringing in my ears
And my tears flowing without restraint,
as these images fade into obscurity.
Family members from several generations set this table
Communing with each other.
My kin
To whom I’m bound
Soon they will be gone
And I am obliged to rise and take their place
To contribute to our failing line
and maintain our earthly place.
In my mind I hear their voices resound from within
And I am saddened by our mortality.
So many thousands will cross paths
And I will light a torch onto their path
Then they will pass on,
out of my light forever.
Long will I sit,
Reminiscing our encounter.
And weep salty tears,
numerous as the grains of sand.
Their many voices blur into one
deafening,
intangible sound.
The tears blur my eyes
and I can no longer tell each grain apart.
This world screams its ceaselessness,
I hear its call and I am enticed to answer
To defy,
Walk slowly past this blur of present molding into future
And fade out into history as will we all
To become as indistinguishable
as the grains of sand.
