Time's Garden

for Chris

It's OK to cry, my friend,

If you feel like a little boy

And your life appears empty

Of pleasure and comfort.

You are still Alive;

And it still has meaning

Through this dis-ease of

Pain that consumes your attention.

It's OK to feel like an old man, too,

If suddenly aging and dying

Seem to glow dimly in a false mirror at your face,

Taunting you into frustration and nausea.

'Why?' is the question you ask.

'Why am I punished?

I was only doing my best

And I'm sorry if I failed so deeply.

But, it's not fair!

How can it be?

There are worse failures

And I am only human.'

You are only Human,

So don't forget

This Pain is not Evil

Or Good, it just Is.

It is not God

Or an Angel of Darkness

Sent to scare you away

From Love.

It is a thing of Fate, perhaps,

A mystery of living,

A chance to watch your loved one

Love you, maybe.

If only you could see Her!

She is all Beauty now,

More than ever.

And her face is like the Light in a tragic darkness.

Pain is between you

But it's only a symptom

Of Time,

Flexible and strong.

Forgive Time;

It has no clue.

It is oblivious, in its Innocence,

As it does its job.

It moves at its own pace, true,

Crushing us on its way, but then

When it's had enough, it creates

Great sweeping and fragrant gardens

Of Relief.

And Relief will come,

Another symptom of Time.

The exotic pain will suddenly

Become a memory of

Time, having its way with you.

You will Live with your Angel

The one with the Light,

Who hovered gently along with Time,

Together inhaling the fragrance of Relief.

(Thanks, Liz, for the photo.)