Friday, July 2, 2010


It’s a lazy sun that rises now
as if passion dead and gone
and the sky that once inspired
no longer energized.

I talk as if I can be heard
like hope whispers in the night
and think of good and better days
as if they’ll come again.

But today I watch the inter-play
and the bounce of blame
and how the clouds gather in
both sides of every game.

And then the breeze of grace
brushes tenderly my face
and I know to humbly bow
to all that is and must be.

All that must be now for then
and so crumbles every dream
amidst the tears we all must cry
until passion again energized.

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