A Stranger at the Door
By John R Greenwood
The days now race so quickly. As a child they would linger on and on. Joy followed every discovery. A new imaginary game of soldier, policeman, or basketball star. Now, as life deepens it can’t be slowed. Ten o’clock at night to four o’clock in the morning is minutes apart. A new day begins with job related stress and have-tos. Goals and dreams meld into a shaky uncertainty- that disappears in the blink of an eye. A vision of something new and exciting is but a fleeting, flickering flash you can not grasp. A feeling of eternal searching envelopes my mind. It is a fuel. It is a curse. It replenishes. It drains. If you could stop and sort it out. Number it. Define it. Put it in focus just long enough to be sure- one hundred percent sure of the direction. But then the journey and the discovery end. For it is this foggy, cluttered road that we call life. Learn to embrace disheveled days and sleep shattered nights. Yearn for rainy days and snowdrift mornings. Open your arms. There is a stranger at the door.