Trying to Find Reason: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
Some times I see this strong man in front of me and some times I see the weak that can spout out from me knowing there is not such a thing as the fountain of youth my legs tremble like numb limbs to be cut off from disease.
The cramping of my fingers, the forgetfulness of those things that are so dear to me and yet no matter what I do I steel just fade.
I hear them say “you are vanishing, just let go” but I try to push on for what I think is the reason for been here.
They whisper to me “the reason? What reason do you think you have here?”
In a calm thought I say back to them “you know, my reason, my reason for been here”
“Reason?” they say to me “what reason do you think you have, what part of reason do you not understand”
I say back to them my reason that is the part I understand, the parts that make me, me and the reason that separates you from me’
The parts that complete me and every thing that I am from the tears and the touch of a wife to the strong hugs of a son that does not want to loose his father.
That’s my reason, those are the parts those are the blessings you try to pull away from my dyeing crippled hands.
John M. Pride Jr.