interjected

we stand suffused,
immersed,
with a timeless love,
circling like terns
aloft with the winds,
taking turns from above;

great care
must be taken,
as we unfurl our jibs,
we must speak
from the same script,
no ad-libs;

we search the sky
impossible,
to see what comes
natural,
and we cling,
as we sing;

life comes,
as it passes,
and truth stares
on all classes,
as we learn more,
and complete the chore;

end arrives,
expected
no one survives,
even elected,
and we go to next,
interjected.



April 6, 2010, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.