I will face my time.
You will face your time.
The fire, the pit, the dust,
the nothing that’s everything.

Natural but absurd.
I want a god, but there is silence.
So, I must come alone to
the dark edge and face the night.

Perhaps I will play the great gig in
the sky on the way, or listen just
to the last of my warm breath
as I wave goodbye.

I saw her on the bed voiceless,
still, and she saw me watching her,
and her hand moved and lifted as
a sign, and the next day,
with cold skin, she was gone.

How will I turn my face,
and lift my hand,
and bring grace at the end?

Theist, atheist, pantheist.
Matters little for we are flesh,
given to the world after the time,
and the space where we once
moved as creatures is taken away.

Sober, yes, but the truth that
binds us all together as one kind,
for there is no difference between
rich and poor, male and female,
black or white, religious or not,
since we sit together as humanity,
as creatures who must face their time.

I lie with you in bed and we are warm,
and now is now and this day is today,
and we are creatures with each other
in this time that’s no time at all.

 

24/4/2024