Empty Spot

I rise with the sun like I used to

feeling the empty spot 

beside me.

Within me.

It reminds me 

of how things used to be.

How they will be

from now on.

But then again,

It's not the first time.

The Long Road Home

We linger a little longer

than we used to.

Tasting the words we speak 

as if they are the last words

we will ever hear 

We feel the world around us

as if we are children

and have no fear 

of the wounds 

which have afflicted us

all of these long years.

We linger

a little longer

than 

we used to

Reminiscing on the 

"good times"

and the
"remember when"'s 

Tasting the tears

as they roll down

our cheeks,

only to fall from our aged faces.

Feeling each moment

as if it is our last
Each embrace stronger
than the last
The feeling of
"Will this be it, then?"
Haunting our goodbyes.

We
linger
A
little
Longer
than
We
used
To.

We dance together

in a vacant silence

that sits uncomfortably 

between the silhouettes 

of our aging bodies. 

A paralyzing fear
An unanswered phone call
And a door left open.
-
Oh,
how angry
the thunder
trembles.

A lasting memory from India

The fire cackles with a gentle ferocity

that comforts my aching soul.

Feeling alone

As I sit in the valley
carved out
by the ancient Ganges.  

And as I look out into the universe

I cannot help but wonder

Are you looking at the same sky?

I cannot help but wonder
where within the constellations
we seem to fit.

Our childhood is fleeting away
from us
at a speed
I can't seem to calculate.

Falling Backwards

The leaves
Fall
          In a pattern
almost
            familiar
But not
      quite
right.

And I cannot help
but to ask myself...


                         Am I
truly
         losing 
everything?


-
The leaves

Oh,
      How
they
                 Fall.