The Captain
I know there is a part of me who is jealous of you while there is another part of me who fears being just like you. The two may never reconcile themselves, but I know I am more like you than you are like me.
Tom
One Day (A Poem)
One day we will be but a memory, a story etched in an anonymous book, telling a forgotten story. Yet what lies beyond our end is not nearly as important as what lies before it. Make it happen…
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The Risen Man
…they will forever be bound in the life that births their quest, and the quest that births their life.
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“Make sure you grab the right hose” (A humorous firefighter’s tale)
It may be one of those things that we in first response rarely talk about, but we’ve all experienced. That “oh sh*t” moment….
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Five Years Ago
Being strong is easy when you are sitting in your comfort zone, sipping on your favorite drink watching others charge up hills around you.
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My Last Day on Earth (If Only I had the Courage)
What would I do if this is my last day on Earth?
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Because I Was a Lion Once (A Poem)
Because I was a lion once,
I hear the call of the wild,
Smell the sweet fragrance of the aspens
Pulling me toward the mountaintops.
Never lost and never to be forgotten.
Because I was a lion once,
Demons sent to frighten me,
Only cause my soul to growl.
A whispered roar to warn the beasts,
I own them. I am their king.
Because I was a lion once,
I roam where my soul wants to go,
And seek no recompense for my wanderings,
For I will starve if she do demands,
And I will feed when her hand opens to to my call.
Because I was a lion once,
This pride, this brood, I shall defend,
Clarity abounds in the process of my starvation,
A frenzy ensures in the hour of its quenching,
I can not silence nature’s call.
Because I was a lion once,
I know my time is near its end,
Yet no tear forms in the thought of this departure,
For I know with each passing day I shall return,
To be a lion yet again.
© 2019 Tom Grasso All Rights Reserved
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She’d Rise Again (A Poem)
There is nothing like the sight,
Of a warrior losing to her demons…
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The Language of Nature
The storms may ripple Her surface and the cold may freeze Her edges, but she would always be true to Herself while the things that flowed with her would always arrive right where they needed to be.
