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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

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Location: Lake Michigan Shoreline, Midwest, United States

By Grace, I'm a follower of Christ. By day, I'm a recently retired school administrator; by night (and always), I'm a husband and father (and now a grandfather); and by week's end, I sometimes find myself writing or reading in this space. Feel free to join in the dialogue.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Something Completely Else

It’s like…in a way…
the time we almost talked,
and I was…we were…
fumbling for the words to say
stumbling for
something completely else
but
something completely else
was said,
and there was a hole—
not emptiness but strange—
like the hole in the heel
of a sock that no one sees,
but all day...it's there—
the kind of care
that circumstance suspends,
a warmth that chills
a cold that melts...
something completely else
and not
what I was thinking
we were thinking at all.
I somehow
missed the meaning
of the message on the wall.
.
TK

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