Matthew 18:3

Tonight, I became my youngest son,

my oldest son now gone

My youth reframed, new joy proclaimed,

a lost returning song

 

Tonight, I became that little boy,

whose playpen sets me free

All toys reclaimed, no further blame

—to enter joyfully

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)

When Time Stopped

The future hung desperately on to the past,

like a pilot fish to a whale

Swimming through the current of times gone by,

lost moments were impaled

The seconds ticked down, day blacker than night,

intention in denial

As deep in the din, voices cried from within

—eternity on trial

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)