CIRCLE OF LIFE

Every
liquid-slow minute
the perfect minute
to love
the along
along the way.

Beneath the surface,
beside my younger-self
and my soul’s companion,
lies an impatient wind,
tempered by time
and the shifting sands
of summer-gone.

But I am sustained
by lingering
hues of happiness
and a treasure-house
of good fortune
that have colored
my palette,
graced my canvas,
and deepened the depth
of my perception.

The circle of life
is fragile,
but infinitely stronger
than a straight line
to the crystal silence
of distinct finality.

I long for love lost
and lost innocence,
but am warmed
by sunshine,
from the rarest
of lost soul’s,
that lives forever
in the heaven
of my heart.

© JOHN PISCATELLA