Time

The past occurs now

staining your writing 

I Observe 

the Bound nature of this moment 

what once Is was, and happened 

gone

but soon to occur Again 

Then 

your writing stopped and began 

Flying over paper again tanned 

But once in nature, this moment 

brought into being out of dust

to which we all return 

A Pen 

Gliding over the sand 

Dropping into our minds in 1988

The Quill became the man's 

Now giving life to pages once tanned 

a long time ahead 

From nature the Is became the Past 

passed over our heads before the waves of our 

Time 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

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