(no subject)

[ceramiclifestyl]

time slips, trips
over the shadow of all
that is right, everything that shines
that sizzles
that sows
that grows
that blooms

and time sees, senses
the sea doesn't just part,
it relents, giving away the one thing
that feels
that needs
that gives
that stays

and time stares, gapes
taking in just a glimpse of
an intricate wooden cradle
that sways
that bends
that cracks
that mends

it's this hearth, heating up
cold hands and noses, this
burning ember, unwilling
to flicker
to darken
to suffocate
to die

this fiery chest, embracing the future, the
unknown, sings a soft hymn,
a sweet rhyme:

There may be roads you ne'er can turn,
and loads that eventually will be cured,
so step out and discover the gold that is light
upon Earth's lovely face.