all that pain
and belittlement
you served me
day and night
when no one
was looking
made the little
man within you
feel much, much,
much bigger
but now you
stand before me
weeping
with no teeth
and the big man
within me
has forgiven you.

Growing old
is nothing more than
the lengthening
of one's shadow
as it
stretches into
eternity and
is seen no more

Atop the curve of a carved stone dome,
well gilded by rays of many setting suns,
Fortune pirouettes and prances all alone
while her clockwork wheels rhythmically run.

With each new tick of her timeless clock,
she spins the drivewheel another round
and dances ’round the clockwheels’ cogs
in freedom, from our cares unbound.

The spring in her step drives clock’s time,
a rhythmic dance with outstretched hands
that point to sorrows or high cloud nine
as suits her music: She won’t come to a stand.

Would that we could pass the years
like Fortune, a lady unwound by our fears.

Every day I die a certain way,
My sky is isn't infinite needless to say,
But under a sky you live,
That's not abandoned and astray,
The stars are for you to perceive,
In the horror of night skies darkness,
In darkness I grieve,
My God is different,
Mine is indifferent,
Not a friend nor a foe.