Love Over Time

Home is always in tomorrow.

Love over time lays a foam mattress on a hard ground.

Stay as long as you can dream.

Dream as long as you need to.

I built a bridge out of white bricks; precious stones my father gave to me.

I use it to run home whenever my eyes close.

Stay as long as you can see through today.

“I was born to be somebody.”

1000 moving words written in white paint on red walls.

Every heart has a picture in the distance that keeps it alive as the distance dies.

Hope.

Home is always in tomorrow.

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Home is always in today.

Duty.

Love over time lays strong roots in a hard ground.

Good seed, stay until you die a good death.

Empty.

Spread your wings far enough to carry four generations.

Don’t fly.

You’ll never die if you pull a rib out of a sleeping soil.

Give it space and sun and water and crown and tomorrow.

When it springs, and its glory becomes a tower, and it towers into maturity;

In its open hands will be the good fruit of sacrifice.

Every womb and foundation has a weight on its shoulder that keeps it alive as it continues to serve.

Duty.

Home is always in today.

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Blood or sand? Kingdom or kinsmen?

True home is part iron, part clay.

Love over time takes water from Eden to the grapevine in Euphrates.

Which is wine, which is water?

The wind of tradition dances into shape and then into a whistling song, and then out of sight.

Boundaries that turn into infinity.

The world is changing. The land is changing.

Love over time is where all the real power lies.

Home is always in tomorrow.

Home is always in today.

Home is always in contention.