But what they do not understand
by wistful obeservation,
while on my knees in quiet contemplation
I am not alone.
For in this heyday of rushing forms,
shapes moving so fast as to be a blur,
rushing forms conjugating into empty masses.
What they do not understand
by wistful observation.
Is that life is not just
filled with days and nights
running like horses bred for competion;
racing without end.
What they do not understand
is life is filled with days and nights
which readily give way to quiet contemplation.
That we might take a less than hurried pace,
to walk and talk with our eternal friend.