Someone Else's Time Poem by L C Vieira

I was reading Leonard again,
sun sneaking through the maples,
the rascal sage exposing
my dirt and dust
between his wicked words,
those perfect strokes
across my hiding eyes,
the maples laughing with the wind
at my ridiculousness.
I have a carload of work to do -
but what does it matter?

Someone's mind is being made up.
‘More than just a proclaimed wish
of aging relatives
and proscribed passage
in the order of things,
a rebel we can picture
a hundred ways
a thousand smiles
a million steps.

The journey begins
The Journey -

one announced from the start of time
and purpose.

There's no going back
to those old mountains now,
back to the wild streets
and crazy nights,
no lonely footsteps on the beach,
no privilege of swallowed tears
to dwell on loss.
It's all about tomorrow now,
someone else's time.

Listen!

A grand orchestra of hope
plays across the universe,
a song of saved-up wishes
and a trillion prayers
for the one who is
and is yet to be.

Can you hear it, universe,
louder than the wind
and Cohen's words?
One child awake
but not yet seen,
one beautiful child's
unfolding memory.

Listen!

(April 2012)