Bewildered, I stand at your doorstep
At the end of an unreal day
Thinking, wondering, how I got there
And what to do next
Standing outside myself
I watch the scene unfold
Like slow motion events
On a movie screen
I wait for the hero to break the trance,
To say something witty and bold
I watch, and I pray
Yet the moment is frozen in time
Like a snapshot of some long-obscure event
The hero stands there, at a loss for words
Caught in a twilight zone between past and future
He hangs on a fine thread, suspended in space
Bracing for the drop
Then you smile and ask me in
The moment is past, the scene is over
I missed my cue, tripped over my lines
With unfinished ideas and jumbled thoughts
Rattling in my mind
Scene II: the living room, tiny cozy and warm.
So this is where your life history is stamped
I can feel the marks on the furniture,
The imprints on the walls
Scenes and acts here passed,
Some happy, some sad
Eventually I find myself munching carrots with your mother
And chatting about her hairdo
I realize I am at ease,
Here in your tiny, cozy, living room
I can feel the family love at play, and it fills me up
I think I shared a part of it for a brief instant
I am in your family album now,
If not a photo, then at least the shadow of a fleeting memory
Let it be a happy one
Bewildered, I stand at your doorstep
At the end of an unreal day
Thinking, wondering, how I got there
And what to do next
Standing outside myself
I watch the scene unfold
Like slow motion events
On a movie screen
I wait for the hero to break the trance,
To say something witty and bold
I watch, and I pray
Yet the moment is frozen in time
Like a snapshot of some long-obscure event
The hero stands there, at a loss for words
Caught in a twilight zone between past and future
He hangs on a fine thread, suspended in space
Bracing for the drop
Then you smile and ask me in
The moment is past, the scene is over
I missed my cue, tripped over my lines
With unfinished ideas and jumbled thoughts
Rattling in my mind
Scene II: the living room, tiny cozy and warm.
So this is where your life history is stamped
I can feel the marks on the furniture,
The imprints on the walls
Scenes and acts here passed,
Some happy, some sad
Eventually I find myself munching carrots with your mother
And chatting about her hairdo
I realize I am at ease,
Here in your tiny, cozy, living room
I can feel the family love at play, and it fills me up
I think I shared a part of it for a brief instant
I am in your family album now,
If not a photo, then at least the shadow of a fleeting memory
Let it be a happy one