Tap

— Andrew Reynolds

Tap

Hot.

Too hot.

Energy sapping hot.

I have great thoughts but they can’t get past the headache.
A cool drink helps, but not for long.
The fan blows warm air around my head.
Thoughts do not cool.

Tap.

A diamond cutter studies the raw crystal.
Marks a line.

A tap cleaves it in two.
An irrevocable step.
Choose wrong and the value is lost.
Irretrievable.

Fear.

Fear stays the hammer blow.
Reach for the jeweler’s loupe to study the problem afresh.

Time passes.
Dust settles.
The stone remains uncut, its value unrealized.
It’s beauty hidden by indecision.

The tap.
Steel edge driven by a sharp tap with a hammer.
Only one chance.
Only one choice.
Choose right and the beauty gleams.
Choose wrong and your heart breaks.

Or don’t choose, and let hope stay on a shelf.
Don’t choose and let the beauty remain hidden.
Don’t choose and let life pass you by.

Hot.  Heat blinding the mind.

In the past a choice was made.
Was it the right path?
Did I tap along the right line?
Is that demon banished?
On the horizon, ships approach.
More choice.
Which leads to fulfillment?
Which leads to beauty?
What line do I draw?

Will there be more ships?
More lines to draw?

Heat.

The ripples rise on a distant highway obscuring the vision.
The distant mountains shimmer as my strength fails.

Come, cooling river.
Ocean breezes flow.
Darkness falls, and sleep restores my weary soul.

Tomorrow and tomorrow come.

Give my soul the strength to,

Tap

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