I wake up
As that child
Whose been running
And out of breath

On that playground
Where my leisure
Is the illusion
Time should wait –

For this innocence
To unravel
Like my swing
Which winds from usage
Ever telling
In its motion
No new heights
Just could be reached

While remaining

Back and forth

Since enjoying
Constant pacing
So ideal if seen
As changes
Though such truth
Is simply fun,

Through each game
Of obsession
Without purpose
Or some product
Besides feeling
What love God
Must have bestowed

When our triumphs
Often fail

And good health
Expires always

After chasing
Dreams of meaning
Off that seesaw
Pure as faith

Trusting death
Is sure release
Into frolic
Without hindrance

Viewing heaven
Amid slumber

By life’s grief.

– J. Pigno


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