Time's Rest

It spins, now, like a

pendant from a silver chain.

Time is a dangerous lover.

"Watch the face of the disc,

and imagine it never moves,"

says the image of time passing,

"allow yourself to relax . . . relax

. . . become one with me."

It goes faster and faster now,

spinning my life out, dancing

my salvation. My life story, a

fantastic web, a living tapestry

God can see it as if it hangs on

His wall, even the moment when

life's final gift, greets me.

Death: a perfect truth, always

faithful beyond human sensitivities,

thankfully cares not for our plans

and schemes, but mercifully embraces.

The faces of incredulity, amazed,

no one believes that I remember

that first remarkable day; that first

shocking moment.

There were no words then.

No way to greet or say good bye

or to explain what I experienced as pain,

when you sent me away.

I screamed and died a thousand

deaths as featureless faces swirled

around me; demons.

Why had you left me here?

Sent me away?

Then . . . faithfully, remarkably, the

night came back to me like a lover.

Ah yes, my oldest friend, slipping around

my body, my skin on fire, to the touch.

So much unexpected joy, while intimately

embracing my fears, covering my tears, and

hiding me from all that haunts my soul.

Unfeeling time, do tick away my warrior

while darkness consoles me, protects me,

and holds me so close I can smell her breath.

While you come and go, she whispers,

"embrace me, lover, but

don't hold me too tightly.

Celebrate the madness.

Mark everything with laughter,

all of your days, and I promise:

I will meet you here, under this tree

in this very special place, and

together we will tell melancholy

stories of adventure, passionate nights,

and endless songs of praise."