This worldly picture show

of treasured monuments

and rousing wonders

crafts of man and God

rightly do we seek

these spectacles

before our time is gone

And yet

as the sands slip down my funneled glass

as it does for all the rest

my sated heart thinks only of

walking on browned grass

among familiar shapes of leaves

amid the commonplace of clouds


a slight touch of your hand

soft salt of your lips

a small breath of your neck

quick gleam in your eye

a sweet note of your voice

my senses singing at this unmatched feast

How I see my life well-lived

in you

my treasured monument

my rousing wonder

my otherworldly picture show


~written by the owner of this blog~