Pulsar Day

What if I befriended time
Then took its outstretched hand

Separation was no more
Despite life’s shifting sand

Daytime, nighttime were as one
Without the fear of loss

Silver seconds, yearnless years
And age no bridge to cross

I beckon thee to join with me
In unrelenting drive

To put away some thought of death
To embrace what’s alive

Each minute is a golden hour
Each breath a pulsar day

When time gives us its outstretched hand
We must not look away

Difficult Art

All the nonsense to receive
Mantas and tenets rising up
Ancient foundations to revere
What architects are responsible?

Live right, I accept
Love well, all the more

But call me not lover for a season
God didn’t build me to let go
If He tells me He did
I’ll tell Him He’s a liar

Time

Do you, as I, daily perform an unending juggling act with the hours, grasping at fleeting minutes, feeling, by sundown, famished for time?

Who of us doesn’t wish to artfully turn the wretched clock into origami art that would sit silent and still on the wall and evidence beauty instead of lack?

Were it possible, I would wave my surely magic arms, and weave into the moments a stop gate, then take eternity to tell you, thank you, you were right, and I love you.

grand loser

The one that rocked eternity
Is all they’ll see
Hope converted you, love converted me
I in black, you in white 
To holy onlookers delight 
The race set out before this night
We have long since won
The task at hand, my fiery-one
Persuade the other souls to run 

The Dash Between The Years

This complete life
Has been about nothing
But having it all 
Ripped away and pulled out from under 
Glorious arms and legs
Made stronger
Never getting a free ride from
The orange-striped vehicle of my choice
And it goes on forever
Faster, slower, stop, again


Did You Know….

The precise flush of your skin
at any given moment
has a world of significance

and maybe a direct relationship
with the brilliance of light in your eyes
but zero connection
to your always-illuminated soul?

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