Transcendental Time

The world is a temporal place,

Buildings are built to crumble and fall

As their once great magnificence is lost to the wind.

Plants and trees wither away,

Once painted masterpieces burn in great fires,

Poems are lost and made wet in the rain.

What is to say that life follows suit?

We live and we die,

That’s it they say.

In the moment I say just three words to you,

Mi Anita,

The drain of time is plugged.

The emotion of love is not held to minutes

Or seconds,

Not to hands on a clock

It has happened, and for this,

It shall always be.


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