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everything in the physical world ages.
this is the oil of the essence of the physical,
we are born, created, exist, cease and desist
and always,
the essentials exit
stage left

and yet, the met-aphysical has,
no markers visible to the keen eye,
no surface tension to it, neither does time rough hew its edges,
or pebble age it to silken smooth water borne baby skin consistency
with uncountable tongue lickings,
and lay two stones
side by side upon the beach,
fellow travelers,
arrivistes from differing paths

so lets us count.

have we ever met?
no, we have not.

will we ever meet?
perhaps, but no one counts the random< unimaginable<accidental,
for man's plans are more destined to awry then be planned away.

but how long have we known each other?

since the sun rose this morning
and every morning before that

when it rained,
and the drops rode down the window pane, and
two drops became one,
thus, since
a million millenniums before time was recognized as measurable

when the  flower blossoms in the garden,
am I not the descendant of the first bee,
and will not our progeny,
ever propagate?

so I have known you for all time
have honored you for all time
and will do so again,
when I metaphysical choose to,
in a manner unknown and yet to be
chosen

perhaps when the earth circumnavigates a distance of 365
days and nights,
or perhaps, when the need is keen and well felt,
a poem in a breeze, very well hid,
shall caress a cheek, and
that will be an honor arrived,
when next the "time" counted by heartbeats
says

due.
happy  birthday woman!
Later...

Arriving by dark...at the house...
I am nearer the closed front door,

but, i wait....'til my nose.....almost levels your arm
we both stop..........you  look me in the eye

suddenly..... you plant a kiss on my forehead
you're a bit taller, still...we look at each other,

eyes glow...they do best, to communicate...faster

..................."later," ..............

i got the message.....without the voice

warm breaths    intensify...fingers   touch   lightly
exploring possibilities.........expecting,
the  affirmation....of a promise....for more:

.................................. "now!" .......................

you open the door....for me..........................


Sally

Copyright October 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...an old poem...
Beyond a wooden door
there is a room
where we sit and grow
three years older together.
Many words spoken,
all ranks broken.
But a thing is always there—
staining whatever it touches.
Blackberry juices fingerprinting
all of my bright white hopes.
A thing molts in the stale air,
trailing feathers
that wean and wane
by the force of our hot breath;
always there in that room
where we denied tomorrow
every credit it begged for.
A thing we gave every other name
aside from its given.
A thing. A simple thing.
© Bitsy Sanders, October 2016
Prayers for our spirits
prayers for our souls
speak volumes about
the faith that we chose.

Prayers for the living
prayers for the dead
exist and breathe
in the words being said.

Prayers of thanksgiving
prayers of praise
enrich our lives
through God's
sacred ways.

Prayers of penance
prayers of remorse
give God a chance
to alter our course.

Prayers for no reason
prayers any time
are hard to say
and harder to find.
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