Endlessly Rotating Circles (Poem)

I'm sitting here on the eve of another flight, another day of travel.
I should be sleeping but my brain will not shut off.

I need the profound almost as much as the sacred.
Resolutions resoluting as themselves.
As the profane holds hands with the sacred
and hope blossoms in the gutter,
the blood of saints acting as water.

Time is correcting itself
as it is falling at a minor speed,
leaking across the general mish-mash
passing through
to your mind.

I'm hoping...just hoping
as the music strikes its chord
and the grace
is just making life that much more crowded
that maybe
just maybe
everything may...




This all feels tainted.
I'm waiting...waiting here...
Praying...hoping again...
There the night falls...
I hear the babbles of alien tongues
and the cries of the lost,
those who don't know
or want to understand
Your Love.

I thought I understood love.
I know nothing.
I am dust,
blowing in circles
and falling into the crevices of life.

I wish I could find peace here
but the air lifts me
and bids me come
as I fall here and there
just hoping
and praying
for an ounce of relief.

For Life to break character
and cast off the charade
so it can be said
and maybe even meant,
good night
and fare well,
sleep tight
and hope
just hope for the best.