stealing away time
an asked for world
I walked further inside a fantasy,
I usually steer clear of grasping its entirety.
But I just wanted to,
I threw caution a curve ball,
stranded my indecision
while all around me,
the sun continued to rise,
high winds set the tone for
any afternoon, every evening, the next morning.
Walking alone again,
after years of reparation,
the sort of time driven self-actualization
we all seem to thrive upon,
yet so rare is our epiphany.
He said he had one standing in front of the window,
in the lounge where pain,
every sort of misery,
played out each soul, each memory,
For that is the true circle of life
we try to live by our standard,
one afternoon there we are looking at a streaking sky,
wishful of every cloud, paint drawn autumn leaf,
each indication of a better life,
will set the tone for the next day.
Tomorrow is the first time I get to speak freely
about what happened already,
only because, there are allowances for
the human condition,
that mechanical ticking bomb
awaits the next adventure.
When we sometime try to bury our ills,
to convey a deeper meaning inside shallow pools,
we sadly forget to recognize
the grace of a natural reflection,
the beauty that thin lined walls,
offer the free mind,
rather than a poured concrete statue
of the divine redemption.
We cannot surely argue with time.