The compendium
of moments
Swinging through
their pendulous arcs
Have marked once
more the seasons’ turn,
Where, set atop
this pyramid of years,
A man may count
the seconds of his soul,
Or plot the orbits
of his heart’s desires.
While we cannot
memorise these movements
Of failing light,
nor lessen their effect,
There is a breed
of man whose breath has blown
The wind of change
across our lives,
Who set the first
example of love
When with a steady
hand steered safely through
The shallow waters
of our toiling past
And even with
an eye moistened by grief
Alighted on a
shore of fortune.
The hieroglyphs
of this endurance
Are
carved in a face of elemental age-
The common fate
of an uncommon man.
