There are words that come in peace.
There are words that come in violence.
They are the same.
They are neither.
They are but words.
It is the heart that knows the difference lies.
And in the heart the hole resides,
And the passage of time slips through;
Rendering for all a picture of what was
But can never be true.
The life you live,
The life you want,
Cannot compare with time.
Time is immemorial,
A complaint against your Life.
Rest here in the hole,
Holy divine, wholly at peace.
The rendered space between you and me does not exist
And you can never give that up.
The timing isn’t right.
©Zumi Potts October 28 2013