a poem

Is it time, to huddle together, and speak of dreams impossible?

Is it time, to sit, knotted with other dreams?

Dreams of loving, like a dog would, of freedom and beauty and happy hopelessness

Is it time to wait, at the mouths of caves, while the snow performs its slow dance outside

Untouched, touched

Is it time to sit, a river at our feet, lifetimes between our toes

Time to fall, to surrender, to plunge

Is it time to walk the cobbled pathways, tapping out soundtracks of times gone by

To wander through the deserts of delusion, thirsting for an illusion

Is it time then?