A Life in Motion

The man I once was cast in still frame.

Young, strong, virile and untamed. 

Waking each morning in fluid motion.

To stirs of child play and commotion. 

The daily needs weigh a heavy burden.

As I grab my keys and quickly jettison.

To race again for the promise of new day.

A day free to choose to sit and stay.

A day to wait a little longer in Brilliance.

Of the growth, learning and resilience.

To see her, beauty in moments only I see.

Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle before me.

Sweatpants, tangled hair a perfect glimpse.

A woman unconstrained by vanity's crimps.

Showered and shaved a quick kiss goodbye. 

She sees my day as freedom and so do I.

To be among adults, learning and becoming.

A daily effort to evolve into something.

A future me that begins as just for them.

But slowly becomes a personal diadem.

Where I belong and who I am shift away.

From the man who wished to longer stay.

To the man who must needs to quickly go.

As days drift by and the street trees grow.

Her tangled hair a lack of clear ambition.

Once bustling kids are now a silent version.

Soon they will be off to school and sport.

Creating their own beginnings of a sort. 

A bin of toys once invaluable collects dust.

Framed pictures she cleaves as roles adjust.

Mommy, mommy replaced by whatever.

Hugs and kisses now different forever.

"Find a hobby or purpose, I have to work."

I say, as she spins spaghetti with a fork.

Quiet consumes the clean empty house.

Enveloping in memories my loving spouse.

As I work my way towards a better life.

Grown old, I leave my job and daily strife.

To hit play on the life I so long planned.

Only it went through my fingers like sand.

Work moved on and called me a lucky man.

Go live the good life with a shaken hand.

But how could they ever know the truth.

That my time had grown long in the tooth.

"Find a hobby or purpose, we'll do the work."

Echo as I pass large street trees and park.

Through the window I see, true beauty's style.

A homemade cake, tangled grey hair and a smile.

As a million puzzle pieces look back, complete.

Welcome home, in her, replete. 

 

Nicholas Campos September 2025