I say this now, for I havst not time left.
Not this fair night, in this night air, you see.
Goodnight, my love, for now I must go work.
School work, for there is much of it left still.
Adue, my darling, I must resume this
And you, surely you must resume your night.

(Tís Shakespeare my dear; rest well my darling.)

- Jay M
February 24th, 2020

The space in every word of a sentence
The silence between notes of a song
The rest after a hard day's work
Gap and stop makes sense

There is no such thing as nothing.
Even nothing must have something.

Sometimes, a stop is needed
A necessary halt for refueling the engine
A little brake to a steep corner
The travel becomes faster

It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.

What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.

Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.

I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.

But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.

Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.

Oh, my child life went flying with wind
Matured when youth was still blind
Now waiting for my destined guest
Yes! when he cometh, my time will rest.

With not much clarity
A guess is worth its weight thrown
But no one ever really knows
Unless the game is read or set
To take or give
Conditions met
I keep the rest to go against
The sense between the self and less