To the Glory of God
To Gwyneth, with Love
We all scream across the sky
Silhouettes that make us laugh and cry
Ruffled feathers of nobility
Talons of regrettable precision
Spreading wings in the breeze trying to be who we are
Stuck as nestlings greater than time
Each feather responding to the hunt
Flickering time itself
Seconds are in time with the direction feathers grow
The downy feathers will fall away and reveal the face
The sun and moon and stars will composite a speeding day
Flying above like a space station
We have come so far to only see our frozen limbs
Our eyes flicker looking this way and that
Our mouths gesturing as endlessly as our beginnings
Tell us how to stop
Tell us a joke that time will never forget
Yet hates our mistake
It is only a clock that forces us to work or tells us the length of a nap
We will never get beyond the tips of the hands on time’s face
And the clock will always laugh
As comedies are canned laughter
Time is no machine but perhaps our self-importance is
Time is substance and perhaps our egos kill the time we carry
Does the eagle ever land?
Do you really look for comfort in substance?
Are your feet touching the carpet through your socks?
Or the wood floor or whatever
Can you ever feel where you move more than when you admit it is only time you have to move through?
But where are the feathers and the beak?
Where is more about the talon?
Fathers break canes of where we’re tellin’
The eyes pierce into the day
The scent of smell is hours away
The past is full of birds flying to other planets
Plan it right, it’s your right to pan for gold
Money is a writ and the lawyers slice up the land
Where are we going?
The time keeps telling us
Maybe we will know who we are if we accept we aren’t in control
Stuck in a tin can the ego can’t escape the need to fertilize our imagination
Surprised by yesterday
We can only hope to be who we are
And care about the destructiveness of needing to tell others they have no further to go
But an eagle can’t be pegged to the sky
Even though it is stuck in time to be as free as believing
We are all stuck in time to be as free as believing
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