Friday’s Passing Fancy/Poem: Middle Time, Better Time

Photo by Tatiana Syrikova on Pexels.com

What I need is not more time or the old time

but a better time, less seconds that push

everything down into valleys on the map

of a scarred and obfuscating world.

I need a time beyond itself with a harmony that

still pulses inside staccato sighs, and sky breaks

on my shoulders with cascading jangles of blue.

I need a right embrace, not a thousand,

one making a highway to the moon

where all radiance has flown

and stars chime all over here, there.

I need the energy inside the transparent core,

not needless pain of millions hunkered down and

making me itch all night, making me weep

as if there is no end to it and no beginning.

I need to pay attention. To be braver in this middle time.

***

What is needed has been long awaited.

There are dangerous rivers running to sea;

we seek the common, mighty albatross’ arrival.

Watch it glide for ten thousand miles,

dive into iridescent depths for sustenance,

then show us ways through the gloaming

before foaming waves of rancor take

us farther from wherever we want to go.

Seabirds, carry us high on wide wings;

show us the world you know and we so desire.

.***

I need this quicksand of lies reversed,

and a rain of wisdom to saturate the land.

I need to waken to a chorus of humans

calling out, resonant as heavenly bells,

and all the clenched fingers of hands to be

released, and more words of mouths and minds

to be as manna right now to help save us,

language and meaning like fragrant flames

guiding us toward a slow

breaking open of dawn,

our spirits once more

rowing, rowing, rowing toward the light.

.

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