Time’s Ebb And Flow
Time creates life from a single seed;
and light from darkness, as well;
time, causes the wounded to bleed;
for time casts an unending spell.
In its fullness, time’s everything;
nothing comes or goes, without it;
birth to death; and all in between;
in
Those Who’ve Come Before
To those who’ve come before;
and will come again thereafter;
may your lives not be a chore;
but always be spiced by laughter.
May your life be an unending feast;
from each of its inceptions;
and you be regarded the least;
and maintain the
Sunrise Of Inspiration
How did it begin; those thought surprises;
life is filled with complications;
but when, exactly, was it, thought arises;
that sunrise of inspiration?
The mind is filled with disjointed thought;
what is it that brings one to the fore?
Nighttime causes a panoply to be wrought;
while
Stuff
Why is it I want what others have;
no matter what it might be?
Greed requires some sort of salve;
that all might forever be free.
Nothing, earned or given, will be enough;
tho what I have is sufficient;
our lives can’t be measured, by our stuff;
or
Crop Of Fools
The Master planted life’s seed in reality;
love was to become its principal role;
at the speed of light, it became a duality;
for, the seed was a clone of his soul.
The Master had planted such a seed, before;
though it never met with expectations;
Storms Of The Soul
The storm rages, crashing the rocks;
its waves, flooding the beaches;
inundating ships, moored to their docks;
beyond the anchor’s reaches.
The storm’s intensity, builds to crescendos;
anger, granting it, increasing power;
much like the anger from life’s innuendos;
growing in strength, each
Life In The Matrix
We live in two worlds, simultaneously;
although, we are totally unaware;
two lives blend together, spontaneously
and no one knows the other is there.
In a matrix known as consciousness;
thoughts created a separate home;
earth was the kingdom of godlessness;
where evil sat on his
Lives Of Pride
Sometimes I feel like a replica of before;
as though I’d been born many times;
a child’s drawing on a refrigerator door;
or a sketch artist’s many designs.
I am that sketch, in need of revisions;
fueling the Artist’s intentions;
destiny chose the
