Sometimes

Sometimes

Of a morning

After purging in the toilet

Washing and shaving,

If that’s what stokes you up,

Looking in the mirror

Has a way of grounding the best of intentions

After a night of rapid eye movement

Fanciful notions

Or regretful rumination,

Walking down the stairs

Two at a time

On a good day

Stumbling over your feet

On a bad one,

Driving to work

Whilst listening to music

To shake out the jams,

It is only the sound of your breathing

That proves the difference

Between

Waking and dreaming.

Whole days can be negotiated,

Miles driven

Conversations had

Without breaking through.

Is it true Monday comes

But once a week?

The internal dialogue

The constant drone

The blather of broken thoughts

Ethical dilemmas

Dissected into bite-size chunks

Rarely shared.

On the off days

When the voices of colleagues blend

Into a wall of noise.

Sometimes the world is a distraction

Perhaps the only reality

Lies within

Until the music kicks in

Pulling it all together

Like the last movement of a symphony.

Beethoven on powerplay

When everything moves along

In the same direction

If only for a moment,

Before you are back in the car

Homeward bound

Standing in front of a mirror

Doing your toilet

And getting into bed,

Unfulfilled.

How many rounds are there left

Before the bell rings

The end becomes the beginning

And for a few seconds more

Than it takes to register dissent,

There is the congruence

Of acceptance