I AM NOT CHRIST

We swim as humanity with the tide of time

and change is all a part of the stream.

Faces go by so fast that they are just a dilation

but they could be family or friends

in this frenzy of life and death.

Passing moments whether sever or contrite

lose us so quickly

we sometimes wonder how we will survive.

The cruelty of life

is having the ability to love.

To feel the universe of pain in the chest

and experience our hearts break.

Why would God

be at the stick of this mad hatters race?

The combination of our lifes regenerating Light

supports His majestic boundaries

and we are slaves to His Creations abyss.

I want to cry

now that I know the Truth.

I want to cry

for I have looked over the lid.

Beauteous stream of brotherhood and sisterhood

trafficking endlessly and flawlessly.

My hand upon the stone

I know that I will eventually rest

from this burgeoning life.

So many people on the planet, wives and husbands

and children all collide.

Mercy on me, why choose a poet?

Must I stand and watch over the gateway

and cry for those leaving?

Have you unveiled me my God?

My eyes cannot wage war upon myself

for I am not Christ.