June 24, 2003
When the wind blows,
when the rain comes,
when the sky roars.
How could we not think that
we're not alone?
What happens when
the moon shines and the sun blinds?
Is it just a moment
in time?
That moment keeps it going with time.
Does the mind ever get tired?
How do we know we're alive,
when time seems so divine?
© 2002, Cynthia Bozeman
GED student and resident poet
World of Opportunity
