Once Time deflowers the daisy of the years
and the moon brightens the nights to come,
Later Life will be stripped of wicked fears
and Death will be dressed in contrite blossoms.
Tomorrow’s Today will lie on the offing;
on the ceiling, a sea of silken stones;
at my feet, a sky of blue clouds floating
when nostalgia coats my fragile bones.
Psalms of liberty will be hummed best,
all answers will be impeccably aligned
and hours will not be hasting for rest
after lullabies run out of time.