the pace of our Days
There are too many big thoughts to be thunk.
There are too many dreams to be dreampt.
There are too many quiet moments to be soaked to keep on livin’ the way we are.
The people that want to live their lives well find that they are stuck between rocks and hard places and tunnels and caves, pidgeon-holed into the pace of our days. No coffee, no love-making, no living tried-and-true. Just drudgery and emails and “I’m sorry” to go around the table with too many chairs and not enough food.
Can a parakeet nest or a book finally be read?
Fish swim in circles and people do to, but we don’t expect fish to do anything but swim in circles and people expect each person to make laps of the world—continents not excepted.
Turn out the lights and let me lie—or lay or lie (as in not tell the truth).
Two things I have asked for:
1. Keep deception far from me
2. Feed me the food that’s my portion
Who hears the Amen?
Can my phone even find the moon when it's face to face?
La Reisytal 
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