On The Subject of Time
Went to her room to watch her die
Went to her room and I knew
She could and would.
I knew I would love
The little boy get him fixed
I knew I would be
An imperfect father and was.
I have been with you now
This while, and my purpose:
isto love you,
Love being the purpose of life.
When love and light comes
There must also come
The Distraction of Innocence
Remember the Flight into the Desert?
"Rachel weeps, her children are no more"
This is when the Savior went on the Lam.
Everything innocent has destruction at its edge
Like the lace at the edge of your beautiful wedding
Dress.
The wind that turns the windmill crushes
The grain;when growing, the grain pulls
Its water and life from the ground.
The ground, we all eventually come to terms with.
I have a plot: Love without measure
Though the day seems damned
The petals on the boutonniere
Did wilt and turn brown.
What luck?
The memories of that November day are hazy now
All memories become ghosts, then mist, then fog.
O the joyous occasion is now but memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem