Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Muse of Change

A view this cloudy
makes you wonder on
the why of reason
that leaves to become
grounded in tasks
of the too immediate,
insistant as
beeper interruptions.
So much here and
too little time.
Giving me back
the muse of change
to let the images come,
I'm praying for it now.
Take the blinders
off my eyes so I can
finally see you.
A much smaller map
is what I need most,
so many miles apart,
so far away, and yet
you teach me no despair,
whisk it away
with hugs and kisses.

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