Time is Now. (a poem)


tapestry of stones
on the canvas of grass,
laid before my eyes
till horizons last,
as I approach the winding turns
my heart writhes and soul burns
in the coal of heat of open fields
holding rage of thousand suns
bits of thorn and pebbles small
adorn the way to mountains tall
panting, breaths and heavy sighs
harbingers of success in one and all,
lifting my gaze with sweat on the brow
with shiny sun gazing back
steps to take, miles awake
the time is here, the time is now…

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