Speak to me of Time
Time we painted portraits in the clouds
Shadow danced through rays of light
Carving paths through cotton mist
Long-forgotten we exist
Lost within the moment's tryst
Cast in shrouds of heaven's white
Speak to me of time
Time our palms were pressed together
Fingers set upon each wrist
Pulses locked in silent tether
Counting beats in fields of heather
Not a when or why or whether
But the hush of tantric kiss
Speak to me of time
Time you crawled across the dungeon floor
Etching lines upon the brick
Each beginning and each ending yours
Rowing ever toward the ancient shores
Gratifying human tick
Speak to me of time
Time I scribbled words upon the page
With rhythm more than meaning
Sounding verse that wasn't mine
Marking cadence in the lines
Finding silence in the screaming
Speak to me of time...
This desperate and defiant urge...
To slavishly control...
The rhythm of our consciousness
The dwelling of our soul
About the Creator
Pete D
News, opinion and analysis of everything American soccer, especially the US Men's National Team.
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