sailed to Byzantium, now standing on dock looking back
fiction
edward w pritchard
Sailed to Byzantium, now standing on the dock looking back. Eyes weakened by age, I use my insight to see my children. They now where I once was. They in life's prime, planning and house-holding, jousting with outrageous fortune to secure their niche. Me always fearful for their safety, unable to be non-attached, I counsel from afar as appropriate and as welcome to be heard by them.
I have come to finally live in the moment; the moment now filled with stiff muscles, aching ligaments and a weakened heart and lungs. Toiling a-still due to lack of proper husbandry, I arise early and continue with life's drudgery, but now blessed by God with joyous attitude and understanding. Except when circumstance stirs my anger or nudges my resignations.
Time is compressed for me into one by one specious moments at a time. I often look back over hundreds of centuries and feel the suffering of my ancestors who lived before. In their triumphs I relish and in their despairs I reminisce.
My future shrinks but I see my role in this small part of the universe and feel eternity after I am ceased. Looking to the stars, I take a deep breath and shrink back into my selficity. Thirsty I seek water, lonely, by practice I let that urge desist.
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