Better to spend an eternity

in Hell

 

Than a brief fleeting moment

—in Heaven

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

To believe or deny,

enlightenment dares

Our lack of acceptance,

a three-legged chair

 

We feel it and breathe it,

and live it de jure

As minds are left gasping

at something so pure

 

At this very point

rejection sets in

Our spirit’s attacked,

the reasoning thin

 

Millennium’s secrets

will come and will go

But what can’t be explained

—the best thing to know

 

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: December, 2020)

None of us get to stay forever,

no matter how we try

 

The fuse burns short with memory’s fire

—into the bye and bye

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

The history of Western Literature

is one recurring sympathy pain

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

 

Not knowing the outcome,

I’d hide in the field

 

And wait for nature

to turn out the yield

 

Perception unharvested,

the thick to the thin

 

The fantasies rotting

—all truth caving in

 

(Stoltzfus Farm: December, 2020)

 

It’s hard to say goodbye

when you know the time is dwindling

 

In the moments you have left,

what was given, taken back

 

It’s hard to say goodbye

when the words are lost and foreign

 

Those looks you get with time beset

—in everlasting sorrow

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2020)

What genius can thus inspire,

the mind will never know

 

It takes more than a thought conceived,

to go where visions go

 

Angkor Wat or Taj Mahal,

we only stand in awe

 

And wish to go from whence they came

—the artists Shangri La

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

 

What is the square root of time,

what is a moment devolved from itself

 

What is the relative quotient of dreams,

tomorrow unspoken—lost inbetween

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

Married to the moment,

divorced from everything else

my vows repeated over and over

—this present forever to begin

 

(Dreamsleep: December, 2020)

The music trying to catch up with itself

as I sit here in the dark

—a figment of a lost dimension

—a remnant of some other duality

This place becoming a steppingstone

to what is now already gone

and the melody so close, so distant, and so far,

passing through itself to what might have been

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2020)