“What’s come to be,or is it just me?
past years, meant they just more bears?
After all that’s been, all that’s been said,
After all that’s said, why does it seem so dead?
…
someplace where they search not,
sometime when they care not,
not in cause, of feels their own,
but in line to things, time sown,
or so they claim… but they’re not to blame,
he’s come here to stay, when gone astray,
to thoughts of past, of things that were to last,
atleast as how he felt,
aleast as with how life, he thought, dealt.

in quite he walked, lacked naught he did,
some people close, heeded, he did,
but the rest?, he thought,
all those years, can’t be made naught,
time, can’t but put to change,
but let none, be let to derange,
over facts unchangeable, over events undeniable.

but, could something have been done,
to change what is now, all but past and gone?
would hands in time, have changed,
what time with hands, has come to change?

or what if, he had in line, gave himself to time,
and its events undenied, and led by time?
would that have brought peace and calm?
or only a closed wound, or an entombed shrine?
…
with things seeming unmoved and silent much too much,
walked out, he did, to the blinding light outside,
over grown grass and corn, untended barn and car,
walked out to center of it all, he did,
birds in pairs flew past, the pain of each other,
did seem,eased because of each other, he thought.
Winds picked up as it never did,
a song came to be, that meant everything that ever meant,
all the fear, all the fright,
of all that was once “could be”, but now frightfully “is”
And he said:

“how i wish… how i wish you were here,
we’re just lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after after, running over the same old ground,
what have we found? the same old fears? the same old fright about us and what might be?,
but yet… in all that i could beg for,
i wish you were here,
and i wish i was there when it could, when we could”

then caught he, a perfect glimpse of what he saw,
and the world in what he was,
the crying sky, the lone farm,
the Mercedes let lone, the suite he wore,
the crashing light, the blinding truth,
of a time, he feared,
of a time, he disbelieved,
because of a time, he didn’t trust God to…

and then with heart rending fear,
opened his eyes, he did,
to a day, the real today,
from a nightmare so real,
which only “could be”, but thanks to God “wont be”.
Awake to a time, his heart tore in thanks and said he,
“Trust God, to times, i will,
“and Thank God……….
……….you’re still here
……….you’re still here
……….you’re still here”