by Thomas Page
The sun will rise, the
Sun will set, the moon will rise
The moon will set; Time.
Will there ever be
A sound as pure as a bird’s
Unbound melody?
Is the past behind
Or ahead of me?
Did I e’er see it coming?
There are pools open
In the dead of winter; an
Embalming of time.
There will be life on
Mars sometime in my lifetime.
A new Jericho.
Today and tonight
The hours in between might
Paint what is in sight.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 