Awake
A moment is a minute with a heart, after which
We come without arched brow, lips pursed
To breech a breath amidst all stolen air.
Removing only proof of thought
For sustenance of life.
No key, the unlocked door,
Through which a passageway of lending gifts,
Leads to open airs of longing space.
We may catch the passing breath
Of all those lives blown near,
Leave simple fruit unripened
Far beyond our scope, be as mortals
Left to nighttime’s touch upon all seeking souls.
Scratched by hunger for the need of understanding.
Then our moment closes. The only God we ever knew
Just blinked one more time.
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