Brian’sPoems

The Right Questions

...will eventually arise.

The night air is crisp,
the dawn still an hour away.
A moth greets me at the door,
then floats silently beside us
into the moon shadows.

Simon does his business
at the bottom of the driveway,
so we quickly head back inside
to begin our daily routine.

Day to day,
hour to hour,
the glowing moon
always looks the same,
here and anywhere
I’ve ever been.

Some days I wonder,

How long will this go on?
How long can I go on?

I step back and listen,
straining my ears to hear
the familiar tom-tom
of my heartbeat drum
calling me forth
into another day.

Too often
I get the funny feeling
I’m not asking myself
the right questions.

Dear God,

What are
the right questions?