Time Is

"Time Is…”

Time is the generous giver,

Which got me to thinking of the sea,

Through cosmic ebb and constraining flow,

I grabbed the knob and opened the door,

Opened the door to the remissive sonorous past,

Waves of effervescent ocean foam lapped at my knees,

My ten toes searched futilely-

The well-springs of ten thousand silent creatures;

Harboring my thoughts,

I laid out my strategy to proceed further,

Swim I must,

Through the rushing ripples

Of forgotten past days,

The abject poverty of loss,

A deterrent as it is, will not overcome,

Not overcome the close of stormy day;

The wind knows its dire destinations,

The frequency waves, soul searching,

Through black holes of lengthy duration,

Sought out my silent searching soul, sifting…

Sifting; future man bows his head.

In gratitude the salty waters washed,

Upon the shore, crusting, icing, 

The delicate skin through time,

Through cosmic ebb, and constraining flow,

There, under the stars I waded,

Fell to my knees, like a stone,

As the grains of sand,

Swaddled my outline.

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