If Only There Was More Time

Morning

On this particular day,
it was rather easy to forget that I was a young and healthy man.

Steam rolling through the dense pedestrian traffic,
smaller and larger humans cleared a continuous path for fear of the oncoming impact of my leading chest.

It was upon my destination we made eye contact,
as we stood on opposite sides of the street she braved the morning rush traffic to run across.

Onlookers amazed at old friends diverting their days for a public hug,
immediately we both spilled out excuses for not reaching out over the year.

If only there was more time were the words we would think,
our outside voices would however spill updates into our apologies.

In a rush we both exchanged promises to meet later,
a rare promise actually met.

Afternoon

I remember her strength as she navigated foreign lands,
without a husband in sight and multiple children in her strong hands.

I was taken aback at her now arthritic hands flapping with joy,
as I entered her room and she started hyperventilating with unconditional love.

Holding her close I breathed slowly to calm hers,
as I felt her heart rate steady I told her everything in my life she missed.

Words missing any sense of sadness for the words would soon be forgotten,
temporary relief and joy were all that mattered.

If only there was more time I would spend every waking minute here,
to ensure that all of her transient moments were filled with such joy.

Others close by called this the “(insert my first name) Effect,”
as onlookers in the facility looked on with envious eyes as they waited for me to greet them on my way out.

Evening

All was in hand and ready for the event which I was not looking forward to,
camera accompanied by its trusty fifty millimetre and stout flash along with business cards.

Quickly I was swarmed by familiar faces and reminded that humans recharged me,
graced with smiles and hugs and handshakes quickly mutating into firm hugs.

I made my best attempt to greet everyone I recognized while making new friends,
I gave those known prints of portraits I made of them over the years.

Tears filled some eyes and joy erupted as those photographs would soon be framed,
many in thanks as they were astounded by my memory of when the photograph was taken.

Questions about where I had been all these years surfaced,
if only there was more time I would have been there for them all.

Recharged and hyper I continued to make my way around the room making portraits,
but with a broken heart for I felt multiple lifetimes lost in the overcrowded room.

If there was only more time,
I would be with you all.