The day passed like any other.
The commute wasn’t any worse.
The workload was a little more
demanding in the high heat.
No one else knew. But I knew.
Fifty years are a longtime. Another
day passed. It was another day at
work with a flurry of activity and
more high heat. I drank some cold
water. And more coffee.
I looked at the headlines in many
places; nothing was worth reading.
Chaos was a common thread.
Fear was another.
Different day; more chaos, more
fear. The date made me look back.
But the headlines made me look
The date that I had joined the Army
fifty years ago passed quietly. The
news was reporting on the next
hot crisis. Then another one fueling
people’s sense of helplessness and
I had a sense of neither. God’s
promises give me peace within and
without. Unending peace.
I was grateful for the years past, but I
realized I was more grateful for the
years ahead and the eternity to come.
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)