After a crescendo

After a crescendo 

On a long cello note

The emptiness of words

Feelings cannot be wrote

A sinking tragedy

The Titanic a boat

I am holding my breath 

In the hopes I can float

Removing grains of sand

Removing grains of sand

Lost on the vast beaches

Like stars thrown into night

So far from our reaches

Celebrating the grains

Obvious in their count

The sinking feeling and

The gravity amount

Thoughts traveled up and out

Thoughts traveled up and out

As far as the next tree

Into the night traffic

In a firefly taxi

Remember our evenings

On the back steps chalking

Up another day with

Our sentences walking

Greatness has a shelf life

Greatness has a shelf life

In the stacks of discard

A pearl rolling out from

Diamonds cut more hard

A rifleless soldier

Charging into obscure

My hand cup of water

Replenishment of pure

Sorry for the sadness

Sorry for the sadness

Not sitting beside me

Branches high in the trees

And every meal for free

Moments perhaps minutes

Like a winter fireside

But eyes outside the frame

And the jaw open wide

Religion offers none

Religion offers none

Clouds are not free of sky

Endless variations

Of who and how and why

Feel freed Stephen Hawking

Your simplicity rang

And some are deaf to the

Frequency of Big Bang

Not big like the night sky

Not big like the night sky

Or ocean ebb and flow

Not far as faintly stars

Or deeper than our know

Nor each and every day

Us counting as they go

Just a swing with our legs

Anchored and rocking slow