since daybreak

since daybreak
unremitting drizzle
has been streaking my windows

relentlessly

seamless tears meander
like delta rivers
feeding an insatiable hungry soul

obliviously

forming puddles in my mind
that takes eternity to loose
from its latent bounds


An afterthought from the book, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, a translation of the French memoir Le scaphandre et le papillon by journalist Jean-Dominique Bauby.

next to the hospital bed

when I looked out my window
I saw an old man fishing

waiting
waiting for the catch

one more minute
he told himself
one more minute

when I rolled over my pillow
I picked up the pieces of my dream

piecing
piecing the missing pieces

one more day
I told myself
one more day

when the nurse pulled the curtain
and turned off the lights

silence
accompanied the sound from the fan

one more night
she said
one more night

I closed my eyes

waiting
waiting for one more daylight

the rain, the flowers and the sun

the rain, the flowers and the sun

it waters
it blossoms
it arches across

stretching my shadow of doubt
till I no longer comprehend myself

it waters
it blossoms
it scorches

parching my scalp
till the thoughts in my mind runs dry

it floods
it withers
it rises and sets as usual
nothings has happened
but everything has changed