Tag Archives: comfort

3am Wonderings

Three hours after midnight
Three hours before dawn
I wake
Who knows but my internal clock
It tells me its time to think on things
that only bring
a sigh, a laugh, or a tear
on why my life
turned this way or not.
Lamp light filtering through
to a curtained life best seen
in the starkness
of the day
lest the fanciful or melancholy
meandering mind of me think
on the oddness of my ways
long or shortsighted as both
sides of me can be.
Never trusting either.
So I wonder of
Them all, I and it.
And you.
You alongside
always affirming
always striving
always dreaming
always seeing
always loving
and I wonder at you
the beauty
the strength
the grace
the audacity
the splendor
the vulnerability
I am home
in you
I feel it in my bones
I am home.

by Philip Wardlow 2018

The waves for the trees


The seas can be tumultuous at times,

unforgiving, relentless, a downright belligerent bastard.

So ride and revel in the stormy waves

Let the skies threaten and yell,

flash and complain, like the devil thrashing in hell.

Give him a smile, a wink,  and a fuck you, and tell

him, “You know what you can do!”

Then  go down, down, down

Letting the deep  in all it’s darkness

console you in it’s mystery,

comforting, cajoling, ever

unfolding in its complexities.

Find peace in the quiet deep.

Tempests may knock on yonder door

while the slow rolling lies just below

while abed you rest, upon a pillow of

seaweed amidst strange trees.

“Knock, knock,” says the sky above

“Go away!”  you say.

“There will be time enough  for you in the bright light of day!”

by Philip Wardlow 2016