Time is a trapdoor

Time is a trapdoor

Golden feathers; Stones of figures
Glyphs of measures; You cannot know.
You are time’s child; Time, but a trapdoor.
Open your eyes; Miracle of the moment
Let go of the stones; Let them fall.
Face into the falling; The fact of your longing
To live in All time; That time itself is stilled.
This is what, in love; Is willed for the lover
And the beloved; Become one – with Time
Mother, of each sign; Placed upon your path
Of dream – dictated; Only by the Unseen.
Follow His call; Let go your grasp
Weakness in the hand; As he walks, halting
His heel, appalling; He cannot wait
His longing – the pain; Endured in his pursuit
The love that cannot be killed; Feathers spread
It rises and sets; In Him, his delight
The bliss – he believes; No need for her
To say, a secret; Known, the look
In the eye, a glow; As gossamer of feather
The lover’s love; Is light, a wonder
The color that changes; As the Sun, He rises
And we submit, to sit; And be. Nothing
But time’s child. Be –The brazen beauty
Wings and hearts; Spread wide... to catch
The luster of love divine; As stops the second
As lost is all of time; In the space between
The lover and the loved; Time is a trapdoor
Longing is eternal; To Beloved we belong.


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