The world is at my fingertips
Reaching grasping hoping
no longer waiting to exist, but merely existing to wait.
With my eyes to the sky
And my head in the clouds.
Angels whisper of the coming of the kingdom to those who make the effort of understanding.
I question my intentions with you standing by me
expecting to Hear the I love you of your life Time
Only to be left with an empty coffee cup.
The grounds at the bottom staring into the face of a born again lover.
We take pride in the Talking and laughing that fills the empty silence with commotion sharp like a freight train.
Pointless noise fills the lines of notebook pages while we scramble to create a song of accepted emotion to produce for the masses.
While staring into the eyes of an infant
past Present future are embellished with wishful thinking,
and the nature of man kind is Nothing bigger than a mathematical equation,
Used to define space and time Beyond the inception of our dreams.
The dreams I've created
The one that I've taken for granted
The one I share with you as the sun rises beyond the pier of the silent beach while the sand is scrunched beneath foot steps Of despair.
And while I Wade in the low hum of city lights
I continue to estimate the importance of a notion.
A notion dedicated to changing what lies deep under the crust of humanity.
Beneath the callused hands of the man on the park bench are years of growth and love and harmony with uncertainty.
People rehearsing their swag to the rhythm of the heartbeat within the lives of the children
who understand the meaning of Living