To Whom it may Concern (a poem)

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To Whom it may Concern I awoke and today wasn't today. It was a void. Nothing more. There was no concept of time. No emotions, good or bad. Nothing to do, and no memories of anything being done. I looked back in the bed and didn't see my body, so at least I knew that I wasn't dead. If this is the broom swept result of giving up totally on hope and happiness, love... Then hells description would seem like a child filled carnival in comparison. All that remains is one last spark; A signal flare from a sinking ship. Screaming light with a desperate message- Now, far far

more than ever, I need your touch. I need to know the feeling of warmth. Human warmth. Your hug, the affirmation of life and anticipated tomorrows. Show me how to see colors in this paint by numbers world. Rainbows and flowerbeds are not supposed to be gray. Laugh with me. Cry with me. Let all of the soul sent emotions be experienced and shared in togetherness. Take my hand and lead me on barefoot adventures, running in fields or on sandy beaches. Intoxicating laughter will echo through the skies. The birds will hear and join us in song. Dare with sincerity to whisper the "L" word softly in my ear. We will leave love's

imprint in the snow, our picture taken only by the full moon watching. Then, in that spot, when spring arrives, flowers will bloom spontaneously as our testament. We can smile and call them our children. Parenthood. So many story book gingerbread house stories waiting. Waiting for us. But my final flare has just been launched and I cannot swim. It has become my god. My faith. The churning water rises waiting for you. (circling sharks gather). A m e n. -Randy

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