Rhapsody In White

I sit reflective in shorts and a t-shirt, wondering
In jest I muse out-loud why is there death?
The only other in the room looks up at my voice as it fades into the air.
Cross-legged and pensive he gazes looking for reassurance I wasn’t addressing him.
Quickly a thought follows upon the heels of spoken word, I wish I were a dog.
As I caress his lumpy head and he seems to contemplate my thoughts.
I realize, he is not a simple creature.
Every life every existence has their own worries, there own bane of existence.
There is no such thing as an easy life.
This realization is driven home as I speak to Elliott, I stroke his head and watch as he enjoys one of his simple pleasures, attention.
The worries that plague him fade, no matter how short the time, he falls into my hand.
Knowing this too shall pass, but knowing just as equally it is here now and it is good.
I look to him to guide me through the questions of life…

by Joseph Camphouse

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