My posts over the last few days have tended toward subjects generally less appreciated by the ladies. I agreed to show a little of my feminine side on occasion for balance. I lived out of a suitcase, in a manner of speaking, for much of my career. Sleeping away from home never was very comfortable, in spite of the valiant efforts of many of our nations finest inn keepers. I have been married now for almost forty years to the same beautiful woman. She has tolerated my manly pursuits far above and beyond the call of duty. When my job and its ugliness had me spinning in space, she was my grounding post. I wrote the following poem in a motel room one night. The monochomatic world of dreams is a state of mind necessary for good mental health, and physical well being. I invisioned a good dream filled sleep like a refreshing swim in a purple sea. As we near mother's day, I say thank you to my wife for all the years she put in being both mother and dad while I was away.
FINDING PURPLE SEA
On the road I do not sleep,
but rather nap in fitful blocks of time.
I stare through darkness at some plastic box
with glowing luminescence red, or green.
11:47, 1:29, 2:33, 3:08.
Times I would not see if you were here,
or I was home.
I miss my nightly kiss.
Your whispered, “I love you.”
My signal day is done and all is well.
I’m free to sail upon night’s purple sea.
Outward turn my inward mind,
Wake refreshed at break of day.
But on the road,
night goes on and on.
Till groggily I rise,
stumble into day,
yawn, and rub my puffy eyes.
Find the nearest vendor of a caffeinated brew.
Stimulate my fog filled mind,
to imitate the energy
that seems to come so naturally
when I wake next to you.