1998
Old time, that roars around the edge of Heaven
as the shadows rushing from the golden
clouds of evening, from the baby smile
of the setting sun -- Time, the kick of God
that sends the soul careening to the earth --
Time, the rain that petrifies the mind --
Time, the wind that some souls beat against
climbing on the quiet wings of love
looking up and crying to be lost in the sun
Time, that empties into nothingness 
and whispers of fear while passing by -- some freeze 
and shatter into shards of evil, stone
broken as the night but hard with hate --
Is time the gift of God to loneliness?
Does the soul, standing in a lake 
of mortal dissolution, know that time
is the breath of God that strips away
all created solitudes?  can wear 
the hardest pearl back to water again?