Pondering

and 'The Rest'

Photos are from a recent camping trip — during which I wrote this two-part poetic reflection.

I. Pondering

A heavy head;
A yearning heart.
A path to tread
And bread to part.

I'm closer now
To slaying my past.
I don't know how
But I vow to last ...

That's the only thing
I shouldn't have done.
For now the bells ring
With the king's own pun.

I shouldn't have lasted;
I should've known;
I should've fasted;
I shouldn't 'should' to atone.

So, here in exile,
As I refuse to die,
I wander a while.
Asunder am I.

At home I lay,
Long, long ago,
And slept to pay
For each day of woe.

And now when weeping,
I think back and pray:
'Like tea leaves steeping,
He is keeping the dreaded day at bay.'

A slumping head,
And a stuttering heart.
The path ends dead
Yet of the bread, I made a start.

II. The Rest

Let’s take a breath.
Let’s sip our wine.
Linger in death,
Just for a time.

The stupor has faded.
Stubborn feet have stopped.
The rest is now upon us –
Of horn and platter, fully topped.

Indeed, the bells are ringing,
And the hearth is bright and warm.
Let’s fill the night with stories,
And dance lightly in the storm.

For even as I ponder,
An exile steeped in fear,
I know the rest is coming –
And I shed, of joy, a tear.