As One

We’re seeking order in a frozen time.
Throughout the tender center, can we be
Directed now toward a common goal?
Do we impolore, expolore or now deplore?
Make now your choice, the sweetness of a life
Unfolds itself beneath time’s steady hand.
So why preserve the solid conter safe,
To surely find itself so unrefined?
To let the hour of grateful recompense
Be silenced loudly by an unseen hand?
The helpful, hopeful, happy time to come
Will not, though all impede, be so delayed.
Such is the attitude so well endowed
To surely set aright the thing offset
That of istelf itself does not correct.