Lost Time
Like a clock full of wonder.
Gentle mornings
Come with a slap on the wrist.
As the sun embraces the eyes
With the hugs of a thousand mothers.
The heart is hollow
As if looking for its other half.
While the mind
Awakens to the beauty of a new day.
Whistles of the bluebirds
Are lost to the ear at 19 o’clock.
O’ songs of mes petite oiseaux
You wrap time in your own world.
Sweet smells of my garden flower
White yet not quite as snow.
Lost time As a gust of wind
Carries dust my way.
Beckoning is the chambers
Of flames.
A sip of brewed hot tea
Is all I need.
To inscribe Is to wonder
To redefine
To gain perspective
To build.