Birthday

Reading, writing, rhythm sticks
We bang the drum so hollow.
Walking, talking, drinking whilst
Red river keeps on flowing.

Upside, downside, inside out
The aching soul revealing.
one step, two step, leave the floor
I think it may start raining.

Slowly, surely, creeping on
Warm distant sun is fading.
Wake up, wake up, see the moon
Beyond the pale cloud hiding.

Lisping, tripping over words
From glossy lips come falling.
Whisper, stutter, what's the thing
I try to say, so telling.

Upstairs, downstairs on the bus
Bright streets go by all blurring
To one undistinguishable mass
Of light aglow all burning.

Quietly, quickly, in the house
Upstairs now, go softly.
Hot tea, PC, check the 'phone
Radiation greetings.

Slowly, softly, under covers
feel the rhythm breathing.
Intake, outake, deep and low
Dissolving into dreaming.

Morning

Aoishka! I yawn aloud
Pulling cobwebs away
Rubbing sleep from aching eyes
Not yet ready for new day

Hot tired eyelids fall,
And rise, and fall again
Wrapping mind in auburn glow
For just another moment, again.

Has a decade passed me by
Or was it merely a second?
Dreams rescind and thoughts descend.
No place for sleep in crowded den.

But, still, lying here, I am
Held under covers, warm,
Glimpse To-Do lists and memories
Wash over, and under and... now they're gone.

Back to the safe snug place
So warm, so cosy, so serene
Where daily demands can be ignored
And life is nowt but a dream.

Still, there is no true escape
As day-light grabs it's vivid hold
Wrenches body from reverie
Demanding I make a move, bold.

Sitting upright in musty bed
Covers thrown aside
Now I'm awake and ready to face
Whatever awaits outside.

Another morning has been broken
Another day dared to unfurl
Another chance to scatter seeds
'Cross bright and wondrous world.

Playing God

Maybe when we die, we all get a chance to 'play God'.

When we meet God and s/he asks us why we did or didn't do this and that, we will come up with excuses about how hard life was. And God, in her infinite wisdom will say:

'What would you do differently then?'

And s/he will give us a day, week, month, year, century or second to try being her.

Maybe every second, minute or day we experience here on earth is under the influence of another 'God' - someone else, who used to be like us - having a go at being in charge of the universe to see if they can do better than the original God.

Maybe.

What would I do differently then? What will I do when it's my turn?