(because April 02 is next week)
What stories will this bed tell when we are no more creatures of this earth,
Dim memories in dim photos,
And this bed is standing still?
Will this bed tell the story of the day it was born
In a humble carpenter’s workshop, finished one afternoon, standing in the furniture front row
Polished, gleaming, smiling, happy, this is exactly what you wanted?
On a Saturday afternoon, the breeze from the lake coming in, your hand on your hip, young, life beginning?
What stories will this bed tell when we are gone? No more,
From this earth our voices faded
Faint, fainter than chirping of crickets in the savannah?
Will this bed tell of the first night you brought it home
The guest of honor for a night and many nights
As the whole world, your house, was arranged around it
Long into the night, ordering and re-arranging the suitcases, the shoes, the clothes racks, your heart
Loving it with the ardor of a first time lover?
What stories will this bed tell when we are no longer here
It stands forgotten in some storeroom, dusty and spidercobwebbed unremembered
Outside hearing the crackle of a fire that will be its end? What stories will this bed tell?
Will it tell of the first night you brought your first ‘real’ lover here that first night
In the evening from an outing, laughing, touching, happy, the taste of your kisses sweeter than all the wine you had drunk
Proud he was coming into your house, to sleep on your bed to make love the whole night.
What stories will this bed tell when our story is done?
When all the lies and the truth make no difference to anyone anymore
Alone, a relic of this past, talking to itself with no one listening?
What stories will this bed tell?
Will it tell of the many nights you lay on it but did not sleep in it
Thinking of someone else while he lay next to you snoring
You asleep while he was awake leaning over you
Whispering love chants into your ears to call out who you truly loved?
What stories will this bed tell now and at the hour of its death
Most blessed of beds at the end of its life
With no one to talk to, wanted no more
After a lifetime of love? What stories will this bed tell?
Will this bed tell of the night you sat at the foot of it, anxious, scared, unable to eat, unable to sleep
Pressed ‘SEND’ and your stomach fell away
Because you did not know if you had done the right thing sending that SMS?
Will this bed tell of the two strangers who lay in it for the first time
Unsure of each other, themselves,
Held hands across the expanse of this bed,
Walked into life together?