Golden shadows fall through spaces in trees.

AND I can hear the heartbeat of time in the breeze.

Steady and lulling.

Never sleeping.

Never ceasing.

My wheels roll

and my thoughts soften like tide. For it is in these golden shadows my soul will abide.

It is a silver lined story, this ellipse

of existing.

Of knowing.

Of loving.

I remember the many harmless nights before, where I became,

riding down

lanes that knew my name.

Imagining:

·  All that could be

·  All that had been

·  And all that is

OH, quiet roads did you even know the time was lulling?

When everything kept:

·  The stream kept running

·  The crickets kept chattering

·  The soft winds kept twisting

·  Those canal-side poppies kept blowing

AND I kept coming back all these nights to roll down lanes that knew my name.

For this heart must drift to rivet.

And this mind must wonder to become implicit.

And it is poetry that the heartbeat of time stopped to hear mine when I inhaled that golden rhyme.