Wednesday, June 10, 2015


I sit on your window sill,
Balanced and composed,
My creation is complete;

I am made of eons and eras,
My belly had digested all,
That there is, was, and will be;

I am free, freer than a bird,
Or fish in the sea;
I move into yesterday,
Coming out of tomorrow;

Would you open your window for me?
We can frolic the throes of existence,
We can unmake history;

Pulling on a string of yarn, we’ll gather up
All that can be; and still be,
Whatever there already is.
© gillena cox

Revisit to read
of time
sometimes its time

Written in response to Susan's prompt today
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Time