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.