Time

 

Stood still again

Caught transcending behind

A cross wind, streaming

Ebbing, forging memories

Caring not about anything

And yet everything 

Suspended, cradled in a

Wisdom not always believed

Or understood, its reason

For being was enough

Savouring only that which

Could be attainable

 

Slipping away from

Darkness into a light

Brimming in innocence

Glowing with confidence

Discerning morals elevating

Compassion's will

A mind pendulum 

Finding its balance.

Edwin James

...