Bottles of Life
Bottles of Life
Bottles of wines
On a shelf
Where they
Come from
I don’t always know
At the table
Rest glasses
All sizes and shapes
Some empty
Others full
Which do I drink?
Betrayal, compassion
Love, resentment?
Each contains
What will course through my veins
As if blind
To taste
I continue
To drink
The wine in my hand
Awakened
From slumber
Blind eyes
Open wide
To what’s before me
Did I look
At the label?
Smell it’s rancid odor
The bitter taste
In each drop?
Shaking my head
Clearing fog
From my mind
And clouds
From eyes
Time for
New life
To flow
This time
Senses heightened
Studying the label
Removing the cork
Pouring a bit
In the glass
Admiring its color
It’s nose
Full of comfort
It’s taste
Deep and rich
Rolling across my life
I know
This bottle
Is true to
What I desire
To be
Sitting back
Glass to lips
I drink all it has
To offer
This life
As always, a thoughtful, challenging post. Thanks Jim.