Who am I to tell others what to do? Who am I to take the responsibility for what they see when they opened their eyes? I think I’m becoming too bossy of my friends. I believe that I’ve crossed that thin line when advice transferred into the directive what to do. I wish no more to abuse trust. I wish no more to push and to pull and to criticize. I wish no more to stand by with advice ready in hand. I want to be able to talk for the sake of talking but not for the therapy sessions. I want to simply love my friends and to accept them for what they are. I want not to guide. I want not to judge. Not friends, nor strangers. I’ll be back when I’ll learn. Or when get over it.
Winter rocks me to sleep -
to dream - to remember -
to dwell in bygone summers.
Fall's abundance has left me fat
and dormancy begins its approach.
Oblivious to the world outside
my cloistered retreat - I succumb.
As cold blankets of snow
shelter and protect me, I slumber.
And while time treks forth -
I walk with yesterday.
[Hibernation
by Tad Scheeler]