Things flow…

Things sometimes flow in a way I cannot know.

In a stream of undulating threads of time.

Convalescing the power. Healing the borrower

of light, of love, of divine.

Pulling on the bootstraps of time.

You said it would not be so.

I could not agree. We sat at an impass.

Never understanding the others view.

Accepting it was so. Moving forward.

Then it came to an end. Died off in some natural disaster.

Convalescing a faith that before hand felt raw and frayed.

Solid as a rock now. So it is.

Held tight with the power of the divine.

Pulling a string taunt along the road.

Lacing those boots. Walking on.

Needing nothing but joy and gratitude.

Convalescing a heart to gold.

The Prediction

Odd words often rolled off his tongue.

Rhymes and half sentences.

Dates and images.

Things that added up later.

Pointless things. 

Like Jack Taylers dog who barked a chirp.

Jack found him at the pound after the prediction.

The old man said Jack would bring home a bird dog.

Everyone thought he’d get a black lab,

But he got a tiny mixed breed that chirped a bark.

The prediction, as always, was spot on.

Our interpretation was not.