Commissions

Tax and Season

a constant companion
whether faithful or no,
Time taxes life,
and fills it;

we pay our debts
in breaths
while it measures
our finite steps;

footprints of an
existence
narrowed to statistical
brevity;

yet Time
is seasoned, too,
by its journey with us;

sweeter its taste
in our dawn,
landing lightly
on transient tongues,

until mind and soul
is tied tighter by laces
of death and design,

and days fall
more quickly
on this land
of the I;

like fine wines
that have matured
correctly;

more fuller in body,
we start to appreciate
its taste;

with less haste.

____________________

No Time Enough

When I look upon you,
From my eyes
To the pen,
Something gets lost;

The seconds work too fast,
No clocks in this house
Can keep time enough
For me to capture

In the exact word
Of my seeing you.

A thousand tick-tock lives
Are well spent
For half a second's
lifetime with you;

If only it was time
Enough for my mind
On seeing the sun,
To shine brighter

Than the heat-struck
Words it gives
To suggest
Your brilliance;

Oh, for such a radiance
To be lost in my translation.

____________________

Heart on Sleeve

in neatly arranged
whispers you wonder
how I can be so open
to the world,
I tell you innately
I don't care;
all I know
is only
God commissioned me;
so that you'd
sincerely know me.

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