In a Subdivision of Reflection
for Randy and Annette

So many with the best of intentions have loved,
have embraced the sacred moment of themselves,
have vowed in sincerity
commitment to the witness of their words.

Time alters none but the truth,
No matter how consummated we become,
being, with or without luxury, in the face of God.

Somehow we become lost.
It is not our plan.
No one said, "let us be lost
from ourselves."

(Erosion is a quiet persistent force
- a pulling at the reins -
while we pretend we're still the same,
desperately clinging to another moment
before the flood is gone.)

Now, reconstituted from the dregs
Into these shiny pebbles in the sand
Ground from some forgotten mountain,
Conjured from passions rising deep within,

We are thrust beyond, into the greater grasp.

in a prayer for well being, lloyd marbet, 4/15/01