We, five minutes are the few,
who can still remember them,
those two, which did so run,
among that race of men.
Oh, for when the two spoke
hidden worlds came alive,
in which no minute could rest,
for in them we found new life.
And they would often travel,
so with them we would attend,
to such laughter which though,
trying, we could not comprehend.
One day we blasphemed nature,
and made our many seconds slow,
hoping that we would never,
have to let their vigor go,
but our seconds soon expired,
a year it has now been,
every day now seems to us,
as an anniversary to that lost dream,
for we remember what we did,
fifty-two weeks ago today,
for such moments echo long,
after any sound has gone away.
So we shall not soon forget,
the two, no matter where we go,
their story has turned to myth,
in tales of enchantment to be told.
For we will forever remember,
those two which did so run,
and will always speak of them,
as “those two – who dreamed as one”.
Conversations With Time
Friends
In the sky they began their flight,
a thousand reds with no end,
dashed into horizons so beautiful –
which I never learned to comprehend.
I picked my favorite shade,
before each hue began to fall,
yet I mourned every color’s passing,
having learned to love them all,
even those shades of rouge,
where the sky seemed to bleed,
for what reason I know not –
or at least can never much agree.
But if I could yet track the colors,
join them somewhere, someplace free,
like prayers which slip into clouds,
on their way into eternity,
I’d paint them just the same,
upon the blue canvas, bare,
never question their design –
or at least not give it so much care.
Five Minutes
Five minutes I cannot buy,
even if I want but a second try,
or to feel love lost one more time,
or have yet to say this final goodbye.
If but the wasted hours could return,
and form some new-made day,
we’d walk together along seashores,
in which we alone would play,
and when the sun was setting,
in the last hours of that added day,
we’d hide ourselves in secret,
so that we’d never go away.