50 years
to the young––
is distant, unreachable,
unknown––
millennia
of invisible time
beyond imagination.
we live
we sleep, we
eat day-by-
day
& the seasons
race each other
across the land-
scape & the sun
can’t catch his
breath––
endlessly circling
in celestial
arcs.
years accumulate in
numbers & decades
& we know
the clock better
than the back of
our hands––
we who live
as though
forever.
we love––
as our hearts
outgrow the bounds
of time.
we dance with our
daughters & our wife,
hug our father & mother,
shake hands with
God.
50 years compress
into a blink of
memory,
a run
around the block,
a subway ride
to brooklyn.
in fifty years
we come to
understand––
every moment of
this life
is made in
heaven.