The chessboard of his day
looms like a unbearable wasteland
in front of him this morning.
No matter what moves he makes
nor what piece he moves,
it will end with his King toppled.
“Why move at all”, he thinks.
“Why not just stand still and let the pieces move themselves?”
So…he withdraws from his own game.
,,,and just lets life and it’s pieces move around him.
“Let’s just see what topples me today?”, he says to himself
because no one else is there to say it to….
“Will it be, being alone?, misplaced anger,
past choices, being unloved….mistakes I still pay for?”
Whatever it will be, he resigns himself
to keep the count of the falling,
pieces of his life as they go.
Other hands, you see, move the pieces now ; hands not his own–
As the game of another day of life begins
and he sees the day unfold
He sees the pawns he uses that now use him back,
He sees the Knight who once charged but now is impotent,
He sees the Bishop, high and pious, now doubting his calling,
He sees the Rook, he himself, locked in the corner, unmoving,
and, He sees the Queen and King,
Long since passed but still in his heart..not having lived
to see him do much with his life.
So the game begins,
and he sits in the futile corner,
And waits to see
what will bring about the Checkmate
and the night.