On Time.

Gentle allowing
With peaceful
Grace
Unexpectedly
Expecting
The divine
Every time
To rise from
Meat to
Flame
And to convert,
Converge,
Into what was
Directed
Before the birth
Of time.
And when that
Which rises
Is foe
Wearing clothes
Mimicking
Finery
– When that which
Surfaces
Putrefies –
When human
Is incomplete
And deficient
– That which could
Love
Is lost.
There is no
Force or control
For that which
Will not grow.
There is no
Salve
For that which
Will not
Heal.
If everything is
An attack,
The one who
Would
Give honey
And manna
And gems and jewels
Can only
Give weapons
Of war.
You will make
Me wrong
For my love
If I stay
And love is
Never a waste.
I will remove
It from you
And you will
Seek to
Fill
The me shaped
Place
But it will
Be too late.
Our growth
Places us
On different planes
And my place
Is with
My kinder kind.
Punish and make
Wrong of me
So that I may
See
The true face
You hide.
You may
Have the trifles
Left behind
They are meaningless
Toys turned to dust
And lay scattered in
Temple ruins,
Cheap imitation
Given in haste,
Given in vain,
Poorly crafted
Is all that remains;
And what was
Intended to be
For me
Has yet to
Arrive.
This crystal
Stair
In grand
Palace
I continue to
Climb,
And take the
Substitute teacher’s
Hand in mine
To enjoy our ascent
Until we
Align –
Or climb alone
It makes no difference
To me
As I am
Whole and
Complete
And blissfully
Merrily
Joyfully
Enjoying the game
Called
Fear not
You’re right
On
Time.

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