Tag Archives: Night

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

Letting Go

In one of my of creative writing classes, we would sometimes do 10 min writing exercises where the teacher would pick a phrase and we would have to madly write something for the next ten minutes surrounding that phrase, After the ten minutes were done “PENCILS DOWN PLEASE”  and what you got is what you got….I was proud of this very very very short story and was even prouder when my teacher at the time  decided to read it in front of the class instead of the other twenty-eight submitted stories. I will never forget his words.  “I wish to read this story  by one of your fellow students because I found something in it to be very compelling. You be the judge.”   I am not stating all this to brag just to express that I felt elated that someone liked what I had written and got what I was trying to relate and that finally my  real desire for writing had found me in that moment.


 Letting Go

“I’m gonna let go, but I don’t know where I’m gonna fall to?” asked the dirty faced little boy who hung limply from a clothesline in the pitch blackness over a deserted alley some four stories high.

“That’s right Michael” said the other much older boy who hung out the window with one hand in a tight knuckled grip on the window sill and the other on the clothesline from which Michael hung.  “You gotta drop straight down and let us see what you’re made of.  We’ve all had to do it, you won’t be the first,” the boy said in a matter fact tone.

Michael looked up from where he hung at the older boy who had spoken to him, his face and body were hidden in the myriad of shadows the surrounding buildings cast upon him. It seemed to Michael that the shadows spoke to him, the voice didn’t belong to anyone at all just a disembodied entity wanting him to fall to his doom. Michael looked up higher to the stars overhead, his only source of light. He gazed at the nighttime sky, the dancing twinkling night.  He had never noticed the stars twinkle as much as he did this night. It made him ponder, it made him think. It made him come to a decision.

He took one last look, time to see what he was made of he thought. He gave the shadowy boy a nod and let go. Just like that.

He fell for an eternity. His long hair was pulled upward as he heard the rush of air flow past his ears.  The beat of his heart was the only other intrusion upon his senses as he fell. The stars above were lost in a deep blackness that couldn’t be pierced, like falling down a well at night. Thump! He had landed and he was alive. Somehow he was alive.  Michael got up and stood amidst the cheering, hooting and hollering of the other boys that had waited down below. Then he simply turned from them and walked away and never looked back. He did look up though at the twinkling stars.

The End