“When At Last Our Exile Here Is Ended”

I will see Your Face iridescent and splendid
And joy before now unfelt unheard
Stirs the ashes and dust of souls long interred

When at last the spell of time is broken
And seamless we are and never were nor will be
Rejoice – the perpetual Jubilee

When at last the voice of Cassandra is heeded
And Hera laughs last who cried most
“And the greatest of these is Love,” She wrote

“When at last our exile here is ended”
And the river flows to the ends of the earth
We will travel across – on wings transplendent



If yesterday knocked at my door
I wouldn’t miss a beat
But step right back into the past
And all my shadows greet

Who would chide me otherwise –
The elephant in the room?
Regret is your inheritance
That plagues you to your tomb

I’d rather lay my cards out
And – bound by certainty –
Retreat and chase the transient
Than ponder eternally

I Thought I Saw Jim Croce

I thought I saw Jim Croce
Drive past me in a car
My double take and curious wonder
At the return of this fateful star

His path crossed mine –
He disappeared from sight
I contemplated the sadness and nuance
Of brilliant dreams extinguished in the limelight

Time and again I am reminded
Chided, cast down, disappointed –
Searching each box for the secret
Relegated only to the select and anointed

Eternity like memory is a message
Thrown out to sea in a bottle
Retrieved and released on the lips
Of time’s most renowned unfinished apostle

Loneliness Is An Indiscretion

I tuck the hours away in a drawer
And watch the minutes pass in dwindling procession
To those with ribbons, parades and bling galore
Loneliness is an indiscretion

A mantra for the tender-footed
“To be or not” – crack open the door
Solitude swells as hindsight enters
Measuring the day in shadows across the floor

I should have embraced each and every attachment
Typed in yea instead of nay then perhaps –
The question boomerangs without an answer
How to reconcile a life elapsed?

I Am Your Past

I am your past come face to face
Be forewarned and sit astride
All you thought you could erase
Sloshes back in with the tide

I am asking for this dance
Time’s a nut you cannot crack
Specters appear as if by chance
What’s forgotten is what you lack

I have come in with you to dine
Like sacraments, I fill each space
With a sweet or bitter wine

No Time

With God there is no time
If I may be so bold
Even now does not exist
As we fritter away the hours, forever unfolds

A prayer is never too late
By design there is no fate
The Greatest Story trumps history
The Red Sea parts continuously

Black holes swallow up the seconds
All is now as was before
Behold, the paradox beckons
Midnight echoes at the core