Sunday Sonnet

Time telling time as only time can tell
Tells nothing if the story goes untold
Our little lections spare us from the hell
Of meeting him and letting him take hold
The simple actions that his word demands
Are foreign to our robes our clocks our ways
Would you believe we all have healing hands
Ah freedom that I prayed would be always
I knew it then then lost it want it back
If I could wear that garment now I would
I was in heaven nothing did I lack
Could I be free from judging yes I could
Each telling now condemns me to my fate
Remembering what I can’t recreate