In the sunlight's bold brightness
Rolling hills joined the sky on the
Edge of the world that also rolled
Into the endless repetition of seasons
Slowing for no creature willing to miss
It's trek through time upon moving time
Until the bee curiously crossed a path
Which ended its life and stopped
The buzzing vibrancy of its flight,
And the seasons stopped,
And the world that rolled,
They stopped like the dead
Of the night.
I wonder if the wounded dog
That limps along the road,
Barely missed by the death
Assuredly awaiting his next misstep,
Is aware of his predicament,
And if he longs for the end
Of his hunger and loneliness.
Sunlight keeps rolling on
Until the night's shadows are
Strolling toward the dawn,
Throughout the dark time,
Wandering creatures move along
Paths and roads that carry
Them to an end that seems
To have no meaning.
Jim Hime ©2013
It's trek through time upon moving time
Until the bee curiously crossed a path
Which ended its life and stopped
The buzzing vibrancy of its flight,
And the seasons stopped,
And the world that rolled,
They stopped like the dead
Of the night.
I wonder if the wounded dog
That limps along the road,
Barely missed by the death
Assuredly awaiting his next misstep,
Is aware of his predicament,
And if he longs for the end
Of his hunger and loneliness.
Sunlight keeps rolling on
Until the night's shadows are
Strolling toward the dawn,
Throughout the dark time,
Wandering creatures move along
Paths and roads that carry
Them to an end that seems
To have no meaning.
Jim Hime ©2013
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