Thursday, January 05, 2012

Untitled, 11-15-09

we people, divided by death
so isolated by time
just past three generations
I'd not know you in a line

and yet I feel a something
that our diversion is illusion
(but thrice told so by the market)
I stumble in confusion

no, listen. believe.
time is but mere construct
and observance, mortal man!
it feigns to erode, destruct

and so lonely, melting stone
moving mountain into sea:
our mere drop of observation
is simply the bit we see

God's road is everlasting
His scope from span to span
tautening the world and universe
and across the hearts of man


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