The Light on the Hill

There's a hill far out in
the distance
that stands out
and apart
It isnt taller than the
others around
neither greener nor browner by day
but it shines out
in the dark
In an otherwise mundane
landscape someone made
it their home
Unafraid of distances
and at peace
with being alone
I stare at the hill often and
on nights that are darker
than others
When the moon doesn't
shine in the sky or when
even starlight the clouds
have smothered
The house stands like
a beacon, a small, bright
clear light for the lost
A silhouette in the light of
the window, I wonder if
I knocked, would it
acknowledge me and to its
chores holler, 'Avast!'
Some nights I have seen
strangers and passers-by
stop to do what I
only ponder
And the silhouette in
the window
to the silhouette at
the door does wander
A dull smoke then rises
from the little chimney
in the kitchen
But no laughter do I
hear, no other sound
than the purring of
its kitten
I wonder if I join
would I be able to
bring mirth
Or would my company
as ever, to more deathly
silence give birth
But it isnt
dark enough tonight to
be knocking to myself I
reason
There will be another
time for that, there
will be another season
For now there is nothing
that the beacon
can attract me for
Like a distant
lighthouse, from rough
shores it wards me off
No nirvana to be found,
no redemption, no solace
So I keep my distance
from the light
that shines bright in a
deeply dark place...

Where to O Time?

Where do you reckon time wants to go?
That it marches on relentlessly forwards and onwards
Never does it pause to take a look back
Not at the brave that stood nor the weak that were cowards

What do you think time wants to win?
That it ruins on for at such an untiring pace
Never a hurdle that it can't take in it's stride
Not even from the ones that fell in its path in this race

What do you reckon time wants to conquer?
That it assaults all boundaries with unfailing courage
Never does it stop to take in what its won
Not the calm that is vanquished nor that which is boiling with rage

Where do you reckon time wants to flow?
That it rumbles and roars like a river in a canyon
Never held back by any obstacle in its path
Not the slopeless plains nor the towering mountain

Do you reckon we just invented time?
To rationalize all that we cannot control?
An entity infallible, uncontrollable, unfathomable
A perfect concept to make our imperfect lives whole...