It's the little things that make the biggest hearts
Beat in cadence to a melody only love can hear
Like the songs you whisper in my ear
On a rainy night
Where the light has left us dark
And the only sight is the radiance of your smile
That shines brighter than any star or supernova
Hidden amongst the universe and its mysteries
Such as time and space
Where it becomes evident that perhaps Einstein was wrong
For we are not relative to motion;
As the faster we move the more weightless we become
Until our acceleration converts into pure energy
Rivaling the universal speed limit
With every step of our cosmic square dance
Searching for the root of it all within the small things
We appreciate

It was noon when the wise man approached me.
In his hand he carried a one hour sandglass,
Jovially bellowing upon every grain that trickled down.
So absorbed was he that clearly time didn't matter;
'For another two steps and he woulda crushed me and his hourglass.
"Woah timely sir!
It seems you've run out of seconds!"
I exclaimed
"Might I inquire about what is so important within this hour?"

The Sands slowed their decent as his gaze shifted...
His eyes fixated,
Everything froze...
Including the final grain,
Floating,
In its chalice.

He spoke to me.

"Given the choice between an
Hour...
Minute...
Second...
Which would you be?"

Curious I told him
"One hour"
To his reply
"There's only 24 of those in a day,
Think bigger."

Playing along I invoked
"The minute"
As he chuckled
"Though indeed bigger,
1440 is still too small.
Think larger."

Confused I queried
"A second?"
Not quite catching on

The laughing ended as he lifted his clock.
Silence reigned.
My eyes shifted to the immobile grain,
Hypnotic in its suspension,
When finally the fellow spoke above me:

"I hope you now understand the significance
Of 86400 moments."
Just before he turned the glass
To walk away.

"There is no story worth telling"
He said
After I asked him of his loss
The man seemed blank,
Empty,
Without regards to his obvious depression
In a denial that was building,
Block by block,
A wall around the sadness he hid inside
His stoic exterior sent shivers up my spine
Attributing to a lurking fear
That perhaps this man had broken,
Snapped,
And maybe just one slip of tongue
Would trigger an eruption
Of repressed emotion
Itching to find an expression
Yet he remained cool like ice
That forms in the nights of winter
With eyes burning hotter
Than the streets in summer
As he repeated his mantra
"There is no story worth telling"
At which point he walked off the roof
Taking his loss with him

The peak seemed so far away
When I glanced upwards towards the canopy
Reliving every step of this journey
That has taken me so far from where I began
As the clouds inched closer I could feel a shift
Within the paradigm that comes with altitude
A palpable change in the way I saw the world
Now at 2000 feet above the sea
Far removed from whence my home sits
I pondered the reason for my steps
And the meaning behind the climb
Maybe it is so I could be as a king
Sitting atop the world and looking down
To the valleys that define the struggles of life
Or perhaps I am running in slow motion
Trying to outpace the memories that haunt my vision
In an attempt to regain a breath of the freedom
That responsibility had so hastily stolen
Without my consent
But as I marched the distance became inconsequential
As the birds chirped a peaceful melody
I began to hear the song of nature
And within my minds eye
Halfway up this mountain
I reached the top of my soul

The forms have spoken
Upon teary eye they break away
From the norms that attempt to define
Love in all its beauty
While all but ommiting
The proximity that lashes repetition
To an oath few can keep
For the heart can become numb
From the suffering of a soul
Once held in the highest of esteems
As the daily routines begin to toll
And the engine that once drove a pair
Begins to seize upon itself in a forceful
Despair
Like an ache in the spine
Our weathering starts to show
Making points already proven
Impeding the natural growth and flow
That once reached towards the skies
Illuminating the heavens
The desire for eternity
Is a jackpot of lucky sevens
777

The first lines are always the hardest to cross
For they're unbroken segments of a beginning;
A new story to tell/ told from a different perspective
Intended to refresh and revitalize your eyes
And your Heart
Starting with your desire to live free
Oppositely of a stand/ a quick wash in the rain
As crazy as it sounds all lines can break
Pulled taught to the point tensions snap
Our bridge and one becomes two
The real value of the lines we cross
Is they're crossed with you

The depth of the rumble was paralytic
Causing a tremor to arise
Strong enough to vibrate the very core,
Of the art buried within,
When will it end?
Will the world stop?
Like a controlled explosion
The eruption is brief!
Yet the lingering devastation brings grief!
These noxious fumes they strangle
And they choke
Living next to a volcano
Is never a joke
So the next time you feel the house shutter
Open the doors and run for cover