Storms come.
Storms go.
Some blow over us.
Some blow us over.

I met a man named Will Adair.
We shared a similar face
and our eyes seemed to be a identical pair.
We have lived in the same place,
twins passing between the mundane and sacred space.
His voice often sounded nearly identical to mine,
but his identity is of a temporal design,
while my identity is made to out last the end of time.

When time slips away then I shall dance in the newness of that eternal day.

I planted a small seed in a stranger’s field,
Unknown to me, it grew tall and resolute as steel.
The fall rains came but the branches were the shield
for every bird that hid in the field.

To err is human,
to forgive is divine.
To air out one’s dirty laundry
in the public is not very sublime.

I stared in to eternity and what did I see?
I saw endless summers fall,
to be awakened by spring thaws,
as children turned old and the old turned young,
as birds sung as the stars learned to burn,
histories yet to be,
but to be they must,
chaos and order dance in screaming shades of light,
as waters covers the earth
while the Spirit moves,
in a place where day and night fade to one,
bringing land from sea,
and a army of wind makes ancient new mountains sing,
I see what I did,
and stared into eternity.