Wander lust, I heard it once named,
when young, seeking some adventure.
Driving long, never tired or shamed,
our next quest inside apertures.
Give attention’s apprehension
that folds into stipulation.
Give moments in precious time
building hope from sacred design.
Tired eyes, holding all close at hand,
and dreaming of worlds left to drive,
you laugh as though watching time’s sands
fall down through sieves, or stand to dive.
Give sighs of pure designation,
figuring in those temptations.
Give moments of admiration,
while I smile my simulations.
You smile, chuckling at moving time,
as though a game performed in keys
musical in sacred scores rhymed
or motioning to god a plea.
Give moments to view creation
now wasted in hesitation.
Give segments of infinity
wallowing in serenity.
Show me love, my simplicity
adheres to all life’s small meanings.
For our blink of humanity
is but a creator’s teasings.
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