There's another time before this time,
frequently lost in space--
A kaleidoscope of fears and doubts,
we desperately long to erase.
But in that world of time unexplained,
worry dominates thought--
Needless, mindless misery,
from a heart that can't be bought.
Wherein lies the answer still,
for moments tossed aside?
As grief and sorrow curve into waves,
roaming aimlessly through the tides.
We may never know from where it comes,
the substantive relief--
But perhaps one day the ebb and flow,
will rescue our beliefs.
For my mother, Nicolina.