Time Enough
in our measure of time
there are curious circles filling our days,
numbered moments marked by the scars of transiting lights,
heavens moguls of tribulation 'n plight,
that give or take away --
the indifference of time that measures man,
in cycles round 'bout heavens span,
meted out in lines that grid the world
in constant sorrow, Saturn stuttered,
disappearing today in some further loss of tomorrow,
yet we also know that ticking clocks in circles go,
'til time enough for love is lost to reasons chains and at what cost;
the God of Time in cycles go, around, about, a-circling slow, fast re-turned,
they come, they go, there's time enough for love you know.
though I spend my time,
scanning the horizon with my mind's eye,
seeking the curve of her Venus belt,
a circumference of sunset reds spanning the sky, she is on the face of it,
a timeless piece, a swinging pendulum of rhythms sway,
a clock that circumscribes my day,
and in the sanctity of the night, rolling
on a sweat-slippery field of red-ocher bliss and
kissing with the same kiss, it's just then
as I watch her rest,
time stops
and takes my breath away
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