“What Is the Time, Please?”
We’re here so our time is Now.
Our dreams, fleet-footed as the stars,
race across the universal swirl
and form a figure-eight, return to open space
where there’s no future nor a past.
We’re left in sacred pause
to whirling, endless
Now.
Like this:
Like Loading...
blank verse, free verse, poem, Poetry, verse, verse libre
No comments yet.