Author Archives: Tom Zampino

Tom Zampino is an attorney in private practice in New York City who makes his home on Long Island. He and his beautiful and accomplished wife have raised two fantastic daughters, four cats, two dogs, and various other domesticated creatures over the past three decades. He formerly blogged at the Catholic Channel at Patheos.

Same Again

 

What am I to make of a day that ends just like it began?

One step forward, one step back, and another sideways for good measure. No further along, at least I am no longer in retreat.

While evening hours skid into night, the night still labors to find the day. As so often do I.

Yet tomorrow promises to be altogether different.

But in much the same way, no doubt.

Peace

Copyright 2020

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Begin Again

 

Starting over, looking back.

We step away from the past but still cling to ego. A story as old as any other.

And likely just as deadly.

Scores of new beginnings were long ago numbered. A constant reminder that finality awaits even the most mercurial among us.

Change itself is mostly welcomed. If only to prove that we are still alive, that we still hunger for second chances.

And even when pain is labeled progress, we suspect that progress will only lead us right back. Because sometimes stolen wisdom is just a false memory.

But it’s not as if we can tell the difference.

Begin again, anyway.

 

Peace

Copyright 2020

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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Window Travel

 

I was made for Sunday mornings and winter.

With last night’s attire still on duty, I ease my way into a favorite reading spot. The one by the window. The one with all of that light.

Its frosted glass gently confirms my rejection of a busy day ahead – with its demands for shopping and indulgences and weekend chores.

They will all just have to wait. And Monday will be here soon enough.

Today, I will find my bookmarked spot – page 148 or thereabouts – and forget about everything except that window. And the chilled air that it keeps whispering to me about.

Today I will travel far away.

Just by sitting here, alongside this window.

 

Peace

Copyright 2020

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Who Are You?

 

Sinking far beneath the ground that you revere

Rising up higher than you could ever imagine

Your humanity is the only thing that remains

Unscathed between dirt and sea. But even

That cannot explain a lifetime of false

Entanglements or only yesterday’s

Misappropriated sanctity.

Who are you (really)?

 

Peace

Copyright 2020

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Your Story

 

You cannot step away far enough to take back what others have already recorded, the things that yet surround you.

Pain kept so well hidden that it now plays out comfortably upon your face. Anger once released into the air that still hovers tightly, like smoke dancing in circles right above your head. And laughter that betrays a simple broken heart.

This is your story, every jot and tittle, and one that exposes the subversiveness of a soul still pretending to be ordinary.

But you are uncommon, holy, and profane, as is the earth itself.

And yes, every bit as malleable if left to die without a story.

Tell it.

 

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Common Grounds

 

The morning has yet to distinguish us, one from the other.

Rock is as water, flesh is as dirt and the past seems to be

nothing at all. So here I am, alone but sitting right next

to you. I bend to gather up stones so as to take you

down. But the ones in my hand have turned into

sand, and the sand has just blown away.

I will remain here now.

Unscathed.

 

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Come Back

 

it’s not as if you ever left

(come back)

it’s not as if your shadows

have disappeared forever,

(come back)

but I still need you to hold me

here in the rain, here in the dark

(come back)

pretending that you will always still

come back

 

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

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Nothing

 

Say the word and I’ll listen

Search for signs of life

and I’ll breathe on you

 

But do I ask too much

by seeking your clumsy

assurances that I still exist

 

in some relentless pursuit of nothing?

 

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

 

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Between Sunlight And Starlight

 

In the hours just before sunlight, in that jagged space between nightmare and exhaustion, imagination still separates us from reality.

Vulnerable, suspicious, and deeply afraid, we are as lost in the confusion as we are entrapped by the night. But we long ago committed ourselves to battle.

One that may never come.

In the hours just before starlight, in that ragged space between our letting go and defenselessness, we see that reality is little more than perception and hunger.

Vulnerable, suspicious, and deeply afraid, we are as entrapped by the moment as we are by the view. But we long ago committed ourselves to surrender.

One that may never come.

Peace

Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

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