On the Strength of All Conviction and the Stamina of Love
Sometimes I think
we could have gone on.
All of us. Trying. Forever.
But they didn’t fill
the desert with pyramids.
They just built some. Some.
They’re not still out there,
building them now. Everyone,
everywhere, gets up, and goes home.
Yet we must not
diabolize time. Right?
We must not curse the passage of time.
xxxxx
Dear Bleaders,
Above please find a poem from The Next Ancient World. August doesn't auger, we just have to let it sit there waiting for a breeze and meaning nothing. Day by day by moment by moment always choosing.
Yours very truly,










