The charcoal and the pencils lay scattered.
Like the thoughts tossed aside that take up too much time.
I will pick you up when I’m ready.
I will draw a thought with my pencil,
Write a painting with the charcoal.
and unravel my dreams with a drink.
I will remember the year has gone by,
maybe two years?
So quick is time..it moves so slow that the speed of light must move that fast to catch up to the paradox of how quickly it passes..
I..We..have lost some souls that were in our plans,
until God said, “Those are not my plans, dear child.”.
Still, we pretended not to hear..
‘Til God took those that were near..
and it shocked us.
I write this in memory of those we love.