The clock is not ticking.
The hour hand is severed from the mechanism,
The minute hand suspended forever at three minutes
Prior to whatever hour you’d like to supplement.
The second hand shows signs of life
Arrhythmically jerking to the right
When no one is aware.
The flow of the meter is dance-like,
Compound time with no boundaries
To measure beat.
There is no year to speak of
No influence of culture
No place to hurry to
Or reason to worry about
Allowing your heart to keep
The natural rhythm to measure your life.
The clock has been broken
For who-knows how long –
There is no reason to fix it.
Your time is measured in breaths,
Your worth is found in the Lord.
Not lost, nor slipping away,
But rather finally alive.

Call us enigma, origonal sin
we set fire to paper birds
and waste paper bins
and play snakes and ladders as
prima donna sings
the coils from the serpents
and the feathers from the wings.
Call us the paradox
apostle carries lies
Seraphim in hell
and Lucifer denied,
cold moods which withdraw
granting all who retried
the listless of love
Unrequited, redefined.

your Monet has replaced all that I’ve known.
the dawn of my time, the end of my days
were robbed. so for this I give you my praise,
for you kept me sound, never left me lone.

No, this love I harbor can not be shown!
who am I? what have I done? trivial craze…
carving names on my heart; corrupt my ways!
I am wrong. for love, I need not atone.

wild dreams and deep sorrows collide
it is from your eyes I cannot depart.
your truth, your everything, and your heart.
the portrait still sits, the flame has not died
we’re not together, we aren’t apart,
hearts at peace, love from afar, coincide.