March 26 by The Running Son
a question of time
tides shift and fortnights slip
away from us. o endless succession!
lips parch and suns chap
and waiting chafes – but we lean back
and laugh hours into the past.
there is only now, only the way
that we mark the minutes, map
the path to the finish – trap
these diminishing moments, then finally
have exactly the life
that we all along had chosen.
by Jim Aldrich (:
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.