It often seems a warp, that time exists
only to be bound up around your wrists
only to be measured by your pulse
the sole time-keeper, everything else’s
false.
Did I love you yesterday, before I knew
that I was I? and that you
were you?
I only know I love you endlessly
today and tomorrow, all that’s to be.
I feel that now, but then I also know
a line divides now and all tomorrows;
we each leap over without being aware
and some things come; some don’t make
it there.
What stands the test and comes through
pure and true
who knows? But for now your wrists,
veined in blue.
This one's a response to a comment-poem a reader left here couple Sundays ago. A question in the final stanza that is quite mind blowing if one stops to think on it. Thank you desk49.
I am travelling and will be offline more often than I like. Enjoy the poetry here and in the season/world wherever you are. I will catch up with you as and when I can beg/borrow/get a net connection. :) Stay well!
I am travelling and will be offline more often than I like. Enjoy the poetry here and in the season/world wherever you are. I will catch up with you as and when I can beg/borrow/get a net connection. :) Stay well!