Flee the Day

Drooping over
the bridge of day,
falling into the
deep pool of night.

an arc looms large,
majestic, pronounced,
a frame woven with
the edge of a zip.

the water is dark
as if waiting to engulf me
into the smooth tranquillity
it breathes.

we flee
no going
the waves ripple
like the beats
of a slow metronome.
Just like we had begun,
we can feel only calm.
At the very bottom
we wait,
to be on the bridge
of tomorrow.

Past Normality

Because my father
taught me to imagine,
my mind is like water,
ideas never still.

It is valley of the unknown,
pathways thin
but hills thick,
seas wild
but rocks calm.

As I walk through the valley,
discoveries are made,
ideas are salvaged
from rocky seas.

Time passes but
never just as memories,
this is the valley
of real imagination.