Time will always be our enemy,

when it isn’t being our memory.

We use it, rather than letting it use us.

We let us, fanatically fill our moments

with things that belong neither here

nor anywhere—always pretending need.

Striking worn paths, we search for

personal goodness, where hope elevates

human off the solitary pedestal;

blind-folded by a will for ignorance.

Woe s/he, up there alone

ensconced itself in greed.

The last to see--S/He is, the Is.

What would the motion of the tides;

the color of the rising sun;

the pallor of the setting one;

be to anything but the S/He?

What other beast but Human - S/He -

can name the seas, stars and drops of

rain drifting down, upon verdant

vales filled with everything?

Earth a Human sanctuary

for Us--Living Beings of Love.

No more, nor less, needed.

© 2008 Sara Coslett

Note: This is a revision of a poem I first wrote on October 31, 2003 titled: “set me free”.

Can you make me be what you want me to be?
Am I enough to love you?