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Eternal stride

by Matthew Sharp

Time is on my (in) side,
Riding in adaptation,
Until it hits its stride,
On the soil in which we genetically reside,
But genetics are a joke when you de-individualize,
Inside you’ll die then be reborn and killed some more,
The floor on which I explore,
Lying on my back,
Laying in a pool of liquid mirror,
like a crack,
That drips me,
Into a garden of empty,
In which my infinite stride echoe’s into eternal me….

01/10/2007

Author's Note: Cultivate observation, It�s a garden of fascination.

Posted on 01/11/2007
Copyright © 2021 Matthew Sharp

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 02/07/07 at 06:30 AM

Fantastic poem. Beautiful Talk about graceful. And talk about timing. I am sitting here in a towel after getting out of the pool! A favorite. And unforgettable.

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