- clocks, cycles, my instinct says it's time -

Signals,
from far away?
from deep inside?
Calls.

The ticking of a clock,
lights on and off,
the sensation of hunger,
a lighthouse in the fog,
a distant cry
that I recognize as mine
and all kinds of signs,
to my instinct that I follow.

Exhaustion,
my body's yearning for sleep,
my mind's asking for quiet
and I demand support,
so much deserved
after the desert;
survival.

Chronos,
old father time,
tempus,
that portion of the sky,
showing me the limits,
the fragments assigned.
Within this world -
subjected to gravity -
mortal and flawed
is how I feel free.

They call me unreasonable,
yet I need you to believe in me,
just as I trust myself
and have no time to waste.

Ready,
let me take in
the very essence
of our brilliant, unreasonable lives.