Painted monuments of fractured sin are

frozen in time by bleached reflections.

Artist's resplendent paintings withstand

the scourges of time as particles spin

around in air and dust in chilled winds,

strokes of red wine, floods of lavender.

His tinted depictions walk the streets,

sketched whores strut on periphery,

reverie illusion in his arms of dreams.

Crimson shades of blood on his hands

as he stands on blue swollen feet.

The clock ticks on as he captures

the burning glints in a child's eyes,

daubs of orange waiting to be touched.

Brush strokes envision time of misty shadows

and the ozone air of storms approaching,

illuminating his world in secret visions.

Aroused by his feeling of inner peace,

he captures the warmth of summer days

and the stillness of pewter nights

varnishing the patina of yesterday.

 People often try to measure time.  They say it took this long to find love, finish their

education, to reach a certain goal and the list goes on.

  Time can often get away from many of us.  You have heard people say, "My, where has the time gone?"  Some will say, "If only I had more time." As I see it, time does not belong to humans.  Oh, but they really think it does.  

  Folks will try to guard what they think is their time very carefully.  I have heard some say, " I don't have time for this." Next, they will refuse to help someone in need or visit a friend who needs them or ever call their buddy and the list goes on. 

 The truth is, time belongs to God.  He decides how much each person is given.

Just let that sink in.  It could be life changing.  Ask God how you should spend

the time you were given.