now i see batman in the sky: the truth, a thing of mind, and eye, wraps all around this thing called time and leads me to a cooler clime, where once was stronger hope (and less) -- the brave one, full with fecklessness, who climbed the spiral bridge to find that peace is but a piece of mind -- but you, my friend, you know things small: that life, while crazy after all, is sweet and low and sharp and high, and why we're half-parts earth and sky
She traveled the low, and dreamed of the peaks.
Searching always her tribe, finding only their cliques,
She began to think, maybe, the problem was her:
For solutions just were not as advertised.
In the heat of the fall, in the cold of the spring,
She banked nothing and all on almost everything,
Was she neurodivergent, or just immature?
For the world seemed a little surprised
To find her as she was, or perhaps, as she wasn't:
Our do's and our will's do not fit one who doesn't --
And the moon still looks lonely to she-the-unsure,
The allure of just what wasn't
Prized
"How much time do we have left?"
The young boy asks, his parents shrug --
"Just enjoy the time while you can,"
His mom says,
While his dad looks on with a camera.
Sea touches sand like breath in lungs,
Clouds form their shapes, these whales, these ships --
Time flows and washes all away,
The mind will lurch and reach and slip.
We've traveled here, my love and I,
For she's now sick, and we don't know
How bad is it is, or how it ends:
The waters crash and ebb and flow
And I still don't know how much time
There is or can be, nor will I;
Awake I am, out on this shore,
While she is sleeping in, nearby,
Only so many days like this --
Only so many hours, smiles --
As I, like my father's camera try
To capture wind, and love,
And miles
there was that time --
and it was not so long ago --
when rain fell into barrels by our door,
when pain was bearable upon that floor,
for you and me were linked, and strong, and free,
and true was more than price, or liberty.
and when you felt your shoulder tapped, you went --
it was your time, you said, and so you served --
but afterthoughts and undertows be damned,
we had a dance to dance, a spotlight time:
but nothing bought, and nothing we had planned,
could comprehend the sentence, or the crime.
there was that day --
and I guess it's been years --
when though we were, you weren't, and that was all,
when going through meant me becoming small,
for as the rain evaporates by sun,
so we the two were destined
to be one
WHEN joy rains down like paint falling from a clear sky, and laughter streaks across pavement, turning the rain into a riot of color, then do I understand togetherness: two parts dignity, and three parts vulnerability, this wonderful mess that is our lives -- hues, pavement and water: time, place, and love.
We watched her set her heart on things That seemed, each day, to grow more far; The blessèd weeks stretched out to years Like running towards the evening star. The chase, the goal, the destiny: The journey set, the route in flux -- But it's not hope out on the Chase But cynicism that Corrupts
DEATH will have its night; Life will have its day. This is the world we're born into, this is the mortal way, AS FLOWERS feel the sun despite the vast all-over cold -- We're born to live, to learn, to feel, and maybe, to get old, WHEN WE must put our petals down, and give in to the earth; For death will have its night, and day will have its birth.
THERE'S ONE DAY cold, the next day warm, The Spring, capricious in its whim; The child runs and plays in snow, Then sees a next when all will swim In streams and pools of sunny March, Beside green fields of Summer-soon: There's one day white, the next day green; It's all a ludicrous cartoon. THE FIELD, it beckons to the young, And to the old, the in-between; But soon the wind will keening come, And gray and white will cover green. There is a rhythm, mad and great, That all must learn and feel to know We think that we're in charge, when we Are just part of the ebb and flow.
THE TRULY different, we forgive, the almost-alike, our enemies; We formulate cases in our labs to spread biotic crop disease, But where those crops won't grow, we find a breeze, a shore, a sunny way; The truly different live in peace, The almost-alike must rue the day.
