a collaborative poem written with Matt Hayes
The poet says there is no hurry.
Time has wasted its soul.
I thought I knew what time was,
a constellation out of space.
We are the constellation
destitute of truth.
I thought I knew what truth was,
but mind and heart cannot contain,
the cage breaks, the bird forgets it has wings,
it drowns in the emptiness of space.
I thought I knew what space was,
but comets gain.
We are the comets,
the goodness of space.
There is no hurry.