“I promise,
I’ll be more present soon.
And thank you
for your angelic grace
and undying patience.”
His words barely
reached me anymore,
less and less urgent
each time they echoed
across the chasmic canyon
gaping impossibly
between he and I.
“No problem;
we must each do
what’s best for us”,
I called back to him
over my shoulder,
less and less urgent
about crossing that chasm.
My meaning wasn’t reaching him.
I know, because there he stood,
waving and smiling,
oblivious to all my patience
and that last bit of grace
getting pushed over the edge
and crashing finally, tragically,
into the rocks
of the raging river below.
And then I watch him
and his smiling hope
getting smaller and smaller
in my rear view mirror,
as I and my heart
turn towards the road ahead,
and drive away
from the chasmic canyon.
~ cj 2013.05.20
chasm (noun)
This was the original piece, written as fast as I could get it out. I wrote several other versions as well. Of these two, I’m not sure which I prefer:
**************
“I’ll have it together soon.
And thank you for your grace
and patience.”
His words barely reach me
echoes fading
across the canyon
between he and I.
I call back over my shoulder,
“No problem. We must each do
what’s best for us.”
My meaning never reaches him
as I watch him getting smaller
in my rearview mirror
as I drive away.
~ cj 2013.05.20