Sometime in the midst of wonder

the minutes did stop.

a clock,

a setting of periodic

measure of our lives

did decidedly

become its own solitary

control group.

We were left to observe,

to see one time,

a continuum

for awhile

so serene in its mystique

we forgot a world around our

lives would remain,

waiting, anticipating

seeking some silent

repair.

Life contains a truth

a genuine reminder

holds an hour

in quiet hands of hope

those that remedy

the hurt

the confusion

all those years

we remember

recall,

hang onto with such an

anxious heart,

hold promise

to keep our soul

dressed in sweet ceremony.

Love is.