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Time
is a fragile thing,
wrapping itself
around our memories
and dreams.
It demands
forward motion,
exhausting,
wearing thin
our imagination.
Rare is the Time
to be still
and quiet
for anyone,
anymore,
but today,
in a single moment,
I took the Time
to remember you,
peaceful dreamer.
I imagined
a world of harmony,
Heaven on Earth,
just the way
you sang of it
and I heard
your wife and child
mourning
together
with all of us.
Time
is a numbing thing,
dulling passion,
silencing voices
of truth,
but today
I only knew
there wasn't
enough Time
for you.
Copyright © Pamela Davison | Year Posted 2005
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