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Sep 2015
Wish i knew what to say or how to lift weight but remember, you are as you think. and i know it's hard, sometimes, to see the light that casts shade seemingly everywhere, but it can be as simple as turning eyes to the great warmth floating up on the sky and knowin' life is a joke if you make it through laughing, right?
we skim, as so many stones, on an endless pond's vague and indifferent face, more directions to feel than anyone can see, and lay, cold n warm, in alternate takes. but time continues inerrant, and the world slips through the sheets of everything, as always. through the bent sheathes, somehow, i felt the great warmth: now, not the cardboard circle in the sky, but inset, on firm land, lapping in waves, far over and under each depth; right down to the last, misery, where sometimes i sit and wait, knowing you visit, too.
so keep lifting yr lips and
  tryin' to swim, and
i'll do the same,
                      okay?
promise
Tom McCone
Written by
Tom McCone  Wellington
(Wellington)   
589
   Sumina Thapaliya
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