There is barely enough time
\nto read a poem,
\nas write one.
\nBarely enough time to take a breath,
\nto die,
\nto be born again,
\nand repeat the cycle,
\nwave on wave.
\nIt is all we allow ourselves.
\nNo time to think,
\nto be,
\nto watch the fossils accumulate,
\nshores being made,
\nthe valleys being cut rock by rock,
\ngranule by granule.<\/p>\n
And what of your life?
\nDo you have barely enough time to be born?
\nTo commit all your sins?
\nTo find truth and choose to live?
\nBarely enough time to love,
\nlet alone know loss,
\nand is it what you want?
\nWhat we want?
\nIs it the hand of forever
\nrefusing to let you be?
\nTo stop and say,
\nI am an eternal thought.<\/p>\n
My heart composes eternal poems.
\nI commence dreams of eternal length,
\nnot yet finishing the first
\nof an eternal number.
\nSo what is it to be late?
\nNot have enough time,
\nfill my house with clocks
\nand deny everything its truth,
\nits need to be,
\nto go on without interruption,
\nincluding myself.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There is barely enough time to read a poem, as write one. Barely enough time to take a breath, to die, to be born again,…<\/p>\n