Time, just a fragment
Loose particles in space
What’s left over, after sunset
That which hovers
Finally leaving us wasted and lost
Like some stalled memory
Favoring what’s to come
Over what never could be
Time, always inexact heartbeats
Those skipping beats between realities
Those awaiting tomorrow
Even before today arrives
And like some stalled memory
Lost, before starting over
And finally finding
What we thought never could be
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
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Poetic Alchemist 
Yeah.