Moments in Antiquity

Today

by S.W.Thompson 4/15/13

There will still be weddings and birthdays,
Births and baby showers.
There are events and shows,
Friends meeting for coffee,
Farmers in their fields doing the things,
That have to get done.
Students in school,
Men and women at work.
But somewhere today,
Someone is grieving a loss that shouldn’t have happened.
People are laying in gurneys,
And being tended to,
For wounds that wouldn’t otherwise have been there.
Today a bomb went off in Boston.
An otherwise beautiful Monday,
Brought to its knees in tragedy.
A nation is,
Once again,
Shocked and appalled,
By the misdeeds of others,
Who set out to intentionally,
Hurt, harm, maim, murder and kill.
The questions arise over and over,
From mouths of millions,
“Why?”
“Who would do this?”
“How could they?”
“What were they thinking?”
All mysteries,
None of which we will know the answers to today.
Today we wait,
And we mourn,
We feel shock and awe,
And scorn the likes of those we suspect may have caused this.
Today we breathe a little deeper,
Sigh a little louder,
Pray a little harder.
Now is a time where we reflect,
More than most other days.
Even still,
We continue to live,
We go about our daily lives,
But today isn’t a normal day.
It is a soon to be infamous one.
April the 15th will now be listed,
Among the calendar dates of other tragic days that “We the People,”
Have been forced to face,
By the thoughtlessness,
Hatred,
And misunderstanding of others.
Today is a day when a country’s gut wrenches,
But its citizens show the true strength of their character,
Of their will,
Of their faith in each other.
We go about our routines,
And follow our plans,
And some of the best of us change our plans,
To make it known,
That we are here for one another.
We are here to help.
We are here to make this whole complex series of events,
Which we call life,
A worthwhile series of events.
That’s what we have to do,
More importantly,
That is what we,
As one nation,
Choose to do.
Today.

Questions

by S.W.Thompson 4/14/13 (bonus)

Who am I?
How did I get this way?
And what will I be next?
When am I going to change?
And where will I be when it happens?
The magic of the questions,
Is that the answers don’t matter.
Who I am,
Is as different to me,
As it is to each man, woman, or child who meets me.
Perception is reality,
And each one of us perceived each one of us differently.
How did I get this way,
Is as relevant to ask,
As it is to ask how colors became colors,
Or smells, smells.
It is what it is,
Can’t be changed,
And probably shouldn’t be,
Even if it could be.
What will I be next?
What is the value of focusing on an impossibility?
There is no way to know,
Psychic or otherwise,
Who one is bound to be,
Be it tomorrow or a thousand tomorrows.
We all grow,
We all change,
We all learn and we adapt,
No reason to sit and predict,
Or postulate about it.
When am I going to change,
Is as simple to answer,
As now,
And now again,
And now.
It is constant,
If not imperceptible,
So why question the thing?
Where will I be?
Well why does it matter?
There is no fun,
I know,
In answering a question with a question.
But why?
Why does there have to be a time?
A place?
The world doesn’t change just because we do.
It’s always changing,
And you are too.

Goodbye Baltimore

by S.W.Thompson 4/14/13

Thanks for everything,
I had a ‘Blast,’
I’ll think of you fondly,
Part of you will always be my past.
I know I will miss you,
You are Charm City,
After all,
But I’ll never be back,
Our time is done,
I have to move on,
But thanks,
It was fun.