The Now

Time in every season
Is blown apart for no good reason.
People with no anchor 
Blazing into historical armor.
No rules of past apply
The illusion of passing hours
Is dismembered by the devine.
The Lord of Hosts is smiling
Knowing his creation is on track.
Not looking forward while in the past.
Being comfortable in the now.
Not creating trails to yesterday,
Capturing the present in hostility.
We get what we wonder on.
We bring it to ourselves..
Regardless of the time or space.
Or the regions dark in this place.
With sparks of fire and ice
The old eyes are wide and open.
No longer staring at the past.,
Nor dreaming of thre future.
But full of present now.