The longing

For what my heart longs for,
my legs can span the longest length.
Or I’ll fill those chasms with my tears
and sail across on my raft of strength.

I’ll get to where I’m going.
I am sure I will not fail.
Because I know nothing of distance
and I know I will not bail.

The other thing, the important thing,
is that where ever I may be,
I am the person who comes before
the place that I will reach.

And still “I” will be there when I get there,
the place where my hearts longs;
the me that “is” combined with the me that “was”
is the wisest me to bring along.

I have the heart, the strength,
legs, head, and hands
To traverse whatever must be crossed
to span the space of any land.

And I will express this if I can:
There is no destination.
All I need is in what I am.

Life’s not easy. But you can make it, and make it good. And so can I.

Time in a taffy pull

How I wish to linger longer
In your sweet and supple arms
Alas the cruelty is much wronger
When we must peel ourselves apart

With all the sugar in the seconds we share
I’d think you’d be able to stick around
But we heed clocks that do not care
And I wish we could stretch the hours out

With all the confection in our affection
Could we put time in a taffy pull?
Our days, eons then, long and thin
Sanctifitious saccharin sentiments
That never end

Like butterscotch discs dissolved slow under tongue
I wish the patience trumped the clock’s impending crunch
I would suck for centuries long
until you were the smallest speck

But obligational oligarchies bite hard
Cracking the savory snack into inedible shards
Minutes are fragments meant to be tragic
When time should be malleable candy elastic