The Walk Of The Weary

Awoke by laughter, I roll my eyes and search for an exit. My steps led by an embrace and comfort better than the one I had just cast aside. My toes crack as the stairs settle. After all these years, they still sing their age in the instance someone shows them they are worthy of more than sight. Once alive and magnificently blessed as a home to beauty, these stairs now escort my hopes, one tired step at a time. I turn right and shut the door behind me.

Clothes scattered about gives the presence of no presence at all. The floor offers a home to a television, strands of Christmas lights and an empty box of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Connecting those three islands, a body of fabric all but tosses and churns; I call this The Black Sea. Stale air leaves my nose ungrateful for its gift and consequently wanting better; I always desire betterment to my situations. The air stirs from the movement of my weary frame as I creep to the window. Closed the night before, as the result of a storm too strong, my fingers find their grip. I unleash what little strength I was willing to give, to open this sealed window. The anxious breeze that had been knocking on the glass pane all morning, burst into the room with eagerness! My eyes close as I breathe deep and indulge in the air that I dare not refuse my nostrils of enjoying. Movement has once again found a home in this empty room.

Enticed by the feeling of wind on my skin, I begin to shed my identity. Clothes begin to fall to the floor in a momentary death of design; such as the leaves of Fall when their purpose is altered and they are the embodiment of a vibrant memory. With each piece of cloth releasing its jealous hold, my skin shivers with excitement. The afternoon breeze dances over my unclothed skin and my nakedness is found to be comforting. Standing still for only an instant, I again close my eyes and inhale peace. Eyes now open, although unmade and strewn about, my bed looks more lovely than it has in some number of months. Perhaps the curtain swaying above the sheets gave the illusion of life to my exhausted eyes, but in any case, a smile was created. Revealing the mattress by tearing off its skin, I muster enough strength to dive into a bed inviting of such behavior. Unashamed of my nakedness, I still decided to hide it with the warmth of my lonely blankets. I burrow and roll around, making sure every part of my exposed skin knows the graceful touch of soft fibers.

As calmness begins to enter the scene, my eyes peer out the window that neighbors my bed. Sunlight is given to my retinas in the form of daggers. I throw closed the curtain and sigh as my mind picks up speed; Love, Hope, Comfort, Loneliness, Purpose and countless others parade through my mind with boldness. Love took her time and I gazed at her beauty as she floated by. When Love decided to leave, Comfort stopped by and I became acquainted to Loneliness. Loneliness was making our bed, as I dreamed of Hope and how she could introduce me to her best friend Purpose; maybe one day Purpose could find her way home to me. I awake from this day-dream, but still dread the thought of lying with Loneliness in our bed of shame; I was never too attracted to Loneliness.

My face now pressed deep between my pillows, the parade fades and I embrace what is about to happen. I stretch my legs to the southerly headboard (as that is where my headboard resides these days) and lock my feet between the mattress and wooden frame. The cold wall tickles my feet with kisses from time to time and I can’t help myself and smile without care. My arm seeks shelter beneath my face, then changes its mind and dives below to the belly of the pillows. Loved by the softest threads, I push my face against their being and escape from reality. My eyes now masked with solitude, I walk away from an afternoon and find joy in a bed so hospitable.

With cares kept at bay by the grasp of another world, I wander, unrestrained in renewal.


This is the recollection of an afternoon nap and how it was such an experience, that I cared to capture it and share it with you, my audience. Do not take for granted the simplest of things in life. When your grand plans fail and you are left face down, the simple things will make you smile and you will see the world as it was created to be;
Take hope in this truth, my friends.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s