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Waiting for the Horizon

I look at the horizon
But the horizon won’t look at me
The this and thats and those and whose
Can always seem
To make me choose
The wrong thing

The horizon begins to fade
In its orange red pink and purple
Looking for the truth
Reason rhyme with purple
It’s enough to make me wonder
If the horizon will wait for me

I can set out, without a doubt
To catch the horizon’s tracts
But the fact, dear, remains the same
The horizon’s not coming back

When hour by hour the time passes, we don’t notice the horizon
Passing us by
The times and places angry faces, keeping up with useless races
The things that make us fret
Pass through into the net of countless stars and endless graces

The very next morning
With dew covered, over-mothered grass
It comes to pass
That the horizon’s there to meet us once again
But what do we do?
Instead of waiting then debating
We begin de-Liberating-
Our minds
so we can find
something more
to worry over
on the pale blue horizon