Fabs Forns
11-01-2008, 06:58 PM
Morning came again. A familiar stab of pain hit me as I became conscious.
Throbbing if I move left, burning if I turn right. Decision time, since moving straight up is not an option. I roll slowly, like a wounded animal, and sit in bed. My core is screaming. I sum up all my courage and get on my feet. My knees wobble and I reach for the blessed support of the wall.
Silent humiliation. Getting that cup of coffee is again, a symphony of pain.
I took a fall. No big deal, I thought, as tears rolled down my cheeks, I'll be fine in a couple. But the old sack of bones refuses to heal. Old and modern medicine agree it takes time. Time that I don't have.
It is ironic, when I had all the time in the world, my body healed overnight. Now, when every day is precious, because it may be close to the last one, it takes time. What has become of my carnal housing? What went wrong?
My spirit ain't tired. It can still run, fly, do somersaults over water, jump from cloud to cloud, slide down the rainbow, balance from the tip of the new moon. Why then am I incarcerated in a decaying, malfunctioning, material jail? Did I not use it kindly? Did I maybe abuse it?
Oh, my long time companion, don't give up on me. We still have roads to travel, a couple of pilgrimages left. Cut me some slack, have mercy and let us do a few things together until the day comes when we part, you be put to rest and I can finally get to ride the crest of those waves.
Throbbing if I move left, burning if I turn right. Decision time, since moving straight up is not an option. I roll slowly, like a wounded animal, and sit in bed. My core is screaming. I sum up all my courage and get on my feet. My knees wobble and I reach for the blessed support of the wall.
Silent humiliation. Getting that cup of coffee is again, a symphony of pain.
I took a fall. No big deal, I thought, as tears rolled down my cheeks, I'll be fine in a couple. But the old sack of bones refuses to heal. Old and modern medicine agree it takes time. Time that I don't have.
It is ironic, when I had all the time in the world, my body healed overnight. Now, when every day is precious, because it may be close to the last one, it takes time. What has become of my carnal housing? What went wrong?
My spirit ain't tired. It can still run, fly, do somersaults over water, jump from cloud to cloud, slide down the rainbow, balance from the tip of the new moon. Why then am I incarcerated in a decaying, malfunctioning, material jail? Did I not use it kindly? Did I maybe abuse it?
Oh, my long time companion, don't give up on me. We still have roads to travel, a couple of pilgrimages left. Cut me some slack, have mercy and let us do a few things together until the day comes when we part, you be put to rest and I can finally get to ride the crest of those waves.