not sure what to say more when
it seems as if I've said it all at least
a million times
speaking of love
speaking of faith
speaking of heartache and
pain that keeps coming at
the world while the world
doesn't pay attention
saying all and nothing
yet I keep on speaking because
somehow it seems important to
try, important to be heard even
if only by myself
and the angels who attend
holding onto light is not
a thing that is possible really
we can allow it to surround
us and fill us and saturate our
entire lives as we seek it
and as we find eternal light
it works upon our souls
changes us, in a way
makes us, creates us anew
maybe we do get to a point where
we can hold it when
light is so much a part of us that
it is found in every fibre of our
hearts and hands as
we emulate the
One who made
life possible
mad rushing in of the tide
the unforgiving tide of the past
pushing on the present destroying
the future one day at a time
we hover in our place of refuge
from the fears that do easily
beset us though we try to not
let them do so
but the rushing in that knocks
us over as we reach for just one
fresh inhalation of something
different, something
new, something that
will put us on a better
path that isn't subject to
the ever rushing in of the tide of
memories that keep rising to
the top when all we need is for
them to float away and leave us
alone
so we won't be
alone
Running into time and space like
A white rabbit on the run with
A golden watch and cup in hand
Heading to the party on
A golden Monday afternoon
Enrobed in tiredness and franticness
And thinking all looked aright yet
As the days went by, the more bites
Of DRINK ME or EAT ME were partaken
Of, the more the years fell away and time
Didn't seem to hold her hostage and she
Could breathe more naturally and be.
Join me in the intersection
For forever, even when it feels dangerous, if
You will see me as I am and recognize
You belong to an us we
Haven't fully realized
Yet as the world keeps revolving
Around this invisible us
In this life with no regard for
What has gone on before or
Since we keep meeting like
This in an intersection of
Sorts that repeats itself
Surprisingly yet right on
Time, time and time again.
