Above the canyon we wandered
discussing the shapes of
the
outcroppings
of
rock and stone
Watching the clouds so high
above us meander
and morph into a mosaic
in the sky
The white wispy smoke
of Father Sky's cigar
floating across his
living room
as
he reclines in his
favorite chair
Perfectly at peace... as are
we
Here with the canyon
Another memory to set
in the slow set of
the brilliant
sun
on the window sill
of our collective lover's
mind
Souvenirs of the time
we walk the same
space
Breathe that same air that
blows the clouds
across the living room
of the Father of the
Sky
We are witnesses to
the
same
wonder
For time can be our partner
or our bitter nemesis
She can tame or taunt...tease
and tempt
We gaze to Father Sky asking
"How do you temper the test of time, Father?"
Silent answer....
only the white
wisps of smoke lightly trailing
the trellis of time
as the tendrils of frozen
vines
Crisp against the baby blue
canvas of his big belly
And in this moment we
know, in our collective lover's
mind
That we, too, must meander and
morph through the trip
of time
Like the white wispy
smoke of the
cigar
slowly smoked and
savored
by the Father of
the Sky
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