It's best not to waste slow moving time
and it's not always wise
to run with the tales of the starry eyed.
Maybe through a change of tides and winds
our faces and eyes will meet again.
Like the lovers we were
lest the fear.
And it wouldn't matter so as you'd nurtured my soul
for a little while
in the whispering winds through the tree branch bends
like a cradled child.
But like all humans of our time,
growing up is never kind.
Do you wonder if it didn't have to be that way?
What if we could run barefoot under the sun
in endless summer rays
wasting our slow moving time
as daisy's,
growing blind...
