Toward Eternity

The small
Quiet voice
Asked me to write
Of the highest of callings.

That I should turn my gaze towards the gods.

That I should speak of grandeur, greatness and glory.

I was not moved.

No words came,
Other than these few;

I feel nothing
But the sun upon my skin,
The dirt under my feet,
And weight of this moment
Stretching toward eternity.

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken