The time of my life
It's the only thing I own
That is out of my control

The swing from the pendulum of life
Tells me how my events go by
Tick
I'm born
Tock
I die

But what is this for?
A God with a plan
Or rather nothing more
Than that of a universe
set forth to go on forever more

Yes, the time I have is a gift to me
For it is mine alone to keep
And my time is always free

This gift I have of Time
It help's me find the truth
I use it almost nonstop
So it led me to you

I'm a little disturbed by the implications
of dreamcatchers in cars.
Are we that prone to fall asleep
behind the wheel?
Are we that scared of our nightmares?
If life is a dream
does a person who dies near a dreamcatcher
get caught,
a fly in a web,
in the dreamcatcher and wait to be devoured
by the nightmares inside.

That fragile cry
Those tiny hands
Such a small body, such big pain.
That tiny heart that pumps much too hard,
That tiny heart was pierced much too young.

So close to death,
So close to life,
So in between,
It isn’t right.

Will they hear the pitter-patter
        of little feet running?
Will they hear the softest of cries
        so early in the morning?
Will she grow and become strong?
Will she go, and leave us so young?

Too young to fight,
Too young to give up,
Too young to die,
Too young to live.

Little Abigail, close your eyes
        you will not have to fight.
Mommy has you in her hands
       everything will be alright.
Grow big and strong in the Lord
       for you are meant for so much more.

Little Abigail, close your eyes, and sleep.
From you I want to hear not a peep.
Rest now and later we shall see.
The running, the growing, of your little feet.

Abigail Madison Elise Nevitt,
              AMEN is cried out for you.
AMEN, the name given to you.
Borne on Good Friday,
               she came home on Easter.
God bless that little heart,
              she was blessed from the very start.

I wander.
Endlessly, I wander.
Ceaselessly, I walk.
Forever more, I go on.
How many ways can I depict my unrest to you?

Footprints are the timeline of my life.
Where I’ve been, the mistakes and wrong turns I’ve made.
The people who have walked in.
The people who have walked out.
They are etched in the ground, broken in by my feet.

Every so often, a second set of footprints joins mine.
Some go on for months, years.
Those are my favorites.
But they never really last.

Most dip in and out of my path.
Some lead me in circles until I have to leave them behind.
You never know what steps are the right ones
Until you’re looking back at them, behind you.

I wander.
I search.
I trust.
And then, I hurt.

Of these steps I am sometimes wary,
But the set of prints next to mine makes me sure footed, now.
I squint to look ahead, but my vision is terrible.
I can’t be sure, but it seems that there are many sets of prints ahead.

Strong, deep, sure-footed paths are carved out in the future.
Please, take me there.
Please, do not lead me astray.
I don’t want to have look back to judge the way you stroll by my side.

Do not waiver now; I haven’t got time for circles any longer.

i will let myself
[my soul]
sink into your ocean.