Navigating Raindrops

Too many times
has the sun set over my eyes
when they remain open,
and too many times
has the dawn caught them
stuck open like a jammed window.

I'm stuck,
a time-traveler,
caught in an eddy
of the continuum
as it speeds by,
leveling any sense
of the normality
I've always dreamed existed
but have not yet found.

I'm confused,
a dog that doesn't realise
that it's master has only
gone to the market,
and will be back
in a few hours,
instead fearing the worst;
they're gone for good,
comatose, never to return.

I navigate raindrops,
mapping them out like
you might a city,
knowing that just like rain,
a city will crumble against the ground
given enough time.

I change every decade,
every one of your whims,
an intrinsic part of who I am.
Next week I'll be more optimistic,
after all, a century will have
been left in the dust.

For every twenty years
that you grace the earth,
I'm on it for twenty five.
When you're eighty,
I'll be one hundred.

A geezer.

A crazy old nocturnal geezer,
begging for a time
when our suns will align,
and I will reap the mortality
of normality;
when I embrace the world
through a lens that isn't blurred
by my slightest movement.

-mine