TURNABOUT

Another Week - another subject, set for us by Tess Kincaid of of  Magpie Tales


Now what have we here? 
. . . .  and what on earth can I make of this one?   MAG 224 )

Not To Be Reproduced, 1937, Rene Magritte 

TURNABOUT

Why? . . . . . tell me why!

You are like an estranged brother

A person, now lost to me,

yet someone I know so well.

A person gone from my life,

as if belonging to another dimension.

This is not the man who marched with me;

 spitting life in the eye, and with that magical spring in his step,

matching my every stride,

as we tossed away all life's problems, 
without a single care in this entire world.

Neither is he the man I knew of high self esteem;
able to hold his head high and brimming with love and kindness.

He, as I, had a twinkle in his eye and a song in his voice,

and our laughter punctuated each and every delightful day,

as if our hearts and soul were as one.

  

We were inseparable

We lived such a happy life as one.

Our very existence was perfection

and we dwelt in total harmony with one another.

Until that dreadful thing happened,

. . . that despicable thing

which came between us like a veil of steel over our eyes.

It was then I felt you turn away from me,

and you told me you did not want to know me.

. . . .  and my heart was pierced and died with utter sorrow.

Life and circumstances were the cause of this; not me.

Life does that, driving its wedges with its many complications,

and often lacerating our hearts.

Is not blood much thicker than water?

Is not life far too short for such altercation?

Are not sweet memories more powerful than any heated argument?

Today you are like antimatter

which cannot mix with me, or even face me

without the risk of total annihilation.

. . .  that is unless my soul hears a gentle knock from you. 

A small gentle voice wanting reconciliation
 would be sufficient to open the door of my heart.

It would not require those impossible words, "I'm sorry!"
That price I know would be far too high to pay.

Yet you know my heart is always open to you  . . .  always.

My earnest prayer is that one day I will again see your smiling face,

and you will stand before me holding those outstretched hands to beckon me in friendship.

Even now you are someone whom I love,

A kindred spirit I have known always and thought I would for
ever.

* * * * * *

For those who missed baby Peter's photos press HERE