a moment of mere days

the days are mere moments
of hours that go on for days
sit and watch the world go
with only imagination
for company
funny how the better the imagination
the more it will get you into trouble

at times I wish I were smooth as stone
then stealth would be my nature
I could watch the world go for millennia
at ease in things as they appear to be
undiscovered

imagination, contact to spark,
ignited
a bolt like a strike of electric intent
sure
brilliance and power
down in a flash
the negative charge taken to ground

there was a truth indwelt
that was taken too
a positive element buried
under hardened clay
which the days of hours
would compress into stone
it’s there—still
constrained
by forces that mark time

forces that carve canyons are
dull by comparison
take light, a spark of promise
compress to core
lustrate in time

and still, there is that imagination
that element, that light, that diamond

 

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© August 06, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

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