Milestone

I'll toss a few hooks over and into my back,
before I yank this fish out of water
to lean over a table of acacia wood.
There lies a contract and script,
in where my lines are only blank for a time to come,
but drenching its pages in a
multicolored frenzy of times that came and went.

I yank the ropes that grasp those hooks
in the forward motion for a closer
look onto that table and parchment,
seeing the macroscopic fine print that
never had my eyes seen ever before.
It had been written in the dead language
of atoms out of time, telling the story still in the works.

I was a rough draft and a final copy.
The jack of my many trades seeking to
brighten the ink of my contract and script.
My pulse was the pen to paper,
my thoughts the letters of every word.
Beside myself stood myself out of mind and body.
The spirit as it were, laughing at me.

The shaded reflection of black and white,
lost in infinite moments of time with clocks
etched within the eyes,
ticking far out of control.
His hand to my shoulder was the strange in that of touch,
his voice seemed of wind and falling
sand reaching out to my ears to speak.

Change is the inevitability of time,
there where all the talking monkeys plan,
and God laughs kindly on His throne.
The importance is knowing, with just a hint
if not more, of contentment.
Peace is in the vessel of the soul
that accepts the terms and conditions.

He vanishes, ergo the sounds of my lonesome
breathing and acceptance over my contract and script,
the hooks still deep in my shoulders.
The newest ink stains the pages in an
almost transparent tone, so barely memorable
to worried eyes, yet those had been
tears from of revelation.

A peace had found me in light of my pain,
through and through like currents to
the Astonishing Light Bulb above my head
that to my road has brightened the way thus far,
now evolved into such from the old fashioned
lantern of seconds gone by and by
the beat of slowly dying heart.

Though Death comes at my appointed date,
my hands have yet to reach that time in
where I meet final peace. Ergo,
shall I ever live to the glory of my Light and Writer,
to what better of ability is available
within boundaries of human nature.
So that when Death comes clothed in white,
I will greet him with my stories worthwhile.