Days like these

Another week has gone. Silently but quickly these days flow behind me, leaving nothing but fragmented memories to remember them by. Even if I did not get all those things done during the week I was supposed to, I can sense a little feeling of content. New memories, friendships, disappointments, failures, and opportunities have all come into my path recently. I'm in a moment between the past and the future, and I am not quite sure whether I can define its meaning exactly right now. Hope and desperation are intertwined and I, conflicted as ever, will try to do by best to make some kind of sense of all of this.

Looking back now, as I sit on my couch watching the grey, heavy clouds gathering at the sky, making promises of the forthcoming rain, I wonder if all the misery and desperation of my past finally make sense. Now that I think I have found my reward I wonder that maybe all the suffering was worth it after all.  If time reveals itself to me in a continuum, in a series of flashes between the not-anymore-but-gone and the not-yet-but-to come, I think I'm finally beginning to understand the position of my existence within it.

Silence and nothing more
desperation opens up a door
of hope you may not realize
but once you open your eyes
you see the beauty and the grace
all revealed before your face
you feel the tenderness of air
the warm breeze of spring in your hair
You think of all the time you've spent and, hence,
 it's days like these it all makes sense

My bad poetry still mocks me. I see the morning is coming to its close, and I know the night will bring another memory to cherish. I close my eyes; finally I can do that. Right now there's nothing to do, so I think I'll just sit back for a bit...