“Ah forever!” I said. “I have such a love of that word, forever.”
“Yes, it is a timeless word,” he said, raising his mossy eyebrows as he looked at me. “Time is ours, but forever belongs to God, don’t you think?” Anne Rice, Blood And Gold

Some look East
and some look West.
Birthing and dying
have their seasons.
Sun and moon stand
separate watch.
Ebb tides dimple
once smooth beaches.
Dark storms rise,
sunshine follows.
Lightening strikes,
sudden illumination.
Thunder pounds,
silence prevails.

Nothing distracts your
Westward gaze
nor stirs my eyes
from searching East,
but the heart,
a true compass,
says East and West,
Yin and Yang,
all come melting
into timelessness.

© 2018, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved


What’s your call? Where do you imagine – or know – it all ends (or doesn’t)?

Share your poem/s on theme or a link to it/them in the comments section below.

All poems on theme will be published next Tuesday. Please do NOT email your poem to me or leave it on Facebook. If you do it’s likely I’ll miss it or not see it in time.

IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These will be partnered with your poem/s on first publication.

PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.  

Deadline:  Monday, October 15 by 8 p.m. Pacific.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you. This is a discerning non-judgemental place to connect.


Poet and writer, I was once columnist and the associate editor of a regional employment publication. Currently I run this site, The Poet by Day, an information hub for poets and writers. I am the managing editor of The BeZine published by The Bardo Group Beguines (originally The Bardo Group), a virtual arts collective I founded.  I am a weekly contributor to Beguine Again, a site showcasing spiritual writers.

My work is featured in a variety of publications and on sites, including: Levure littéraure, Ramingo’s PorchVita Brevis Literature,Compass Rose, Connotation Press, The River Journal, The Bar None GroupSalamander CoveSecond LightI Am Not a Silent PoetMeta / Phor(e) /Play, and California Woman.


  1. every moment a tiptoe sounds

    I close my eyes to see

    as I feel the page

    as words take shape and form

    my thoughts encircle the song

    inside the circle of the dance

    is it the dancer or the dance?

    Ah! only my soul knows

    Only my heart can see-

    I close my eyes to look

    up from the book

    at the love of purity

    which is but a scent sweet

    I reach out to touch

    Nothingness ‘

    Ah The presence in Nothingness’

    Love of Eternity ‘


    closer than the thorn is to the rose

    growing from dust

    glowing in the dust

    dust to dust we rose

    engulfed spirits in time

    destined together to repose…

    arms spread out to receive

    like the scattered petals

    of the beloved rose…..

    my eyes on the book I close

    the dancer moved bent and rose….

    life went on, life goes….

    far far away, forever

    Liked by 1 person

  2. How is it possible to make something timeless when we are finite beings and born to die, as Lana Del Rey sings? Yes, God is timeless, but so are human-made creations and memories that pass from generation to generation. Where does timelessness start? Lewis Carroll gave me an answer when Alice spoke with the Caterpillar. They were both responsible for a bit of inspiration to write this poem:
    And here is another one with the issue of time linked with cruelty:


  3. My first response dear Jamie :

    * God Is Timeless *

    The coast breaking
    The sun setting
    The flower shedding
    The frame withering
    The bond tearing
    Everything seems
    A transient cold spell
    An immanent liberty
    A short lived property

    A sweet mild breeze following a disastrous storm
    A call of azure ocean
    A dawn riding on Sun God’s chariot
    A daffodil smiling with dewy kiss
    A new born kissing the mom’s cheek
    A kinship bearing fruit

    Beauty is God
    Love is God
    And God is timeless
    Though our mortal feet
    On this earthen world are transient .

    ©Kakali Das Ghosh

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Thanks Jamie

    . the birds fly up.

    it is a clear word

    as water pure and bouncing

    off rocks

    a bird


    messing about

    remembering #

    days mud building dams

    fighting the tide

    pushing back years

    running the path

    fighting for freedom

    then it comes



    the lark


    having written of the hour,

    move on when all is lost.

    the days remain


    today, we walk the woods,

    back home.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Jamie, do you think this is one of the benefits we experience as we age – the ability to view life with a wide lens while still being able to focus anywhere – but seldom loosing our bearing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Maybe so. I think it depends on the viewer, something I’ve come to appreciate living in a community of disabled seniors and seeing how many are seriously depressed and don’t see with a wide lens, don’t accept, and have indeed long lost their bearings. Thank you, Pat.


  6. But just imagine
    Your home next to mine
    ‎You next to me. .
    ‎We’ll be laying
    ‎Side by side
    ‎Under the tree,
    ‎Talking about
    ‎Dreams and our
    Coming destinies,
    And just like that
    We’ll live forever
    In our own
    Timed infinity.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. A true compass
    (Jamie Dedes)

    “Our fate like cast lead can not
    to change.
    Nothing can change. ”
    G. Seferis

    Like a desperate winter …
    Do you hear – how do the branches
    the trees crack
    under the night snow.
    Bones under your weight.
    You who embraced the frozen
    water to see only
    your body.
    Your remote body.
    I spoke to you out of the law.
    Not always
    (“forever”it is for the prophets).
    How lied your experience,
    which accumulate the old gods
    in the blood.
    The true rulers of fate.
    Who else talks behind your voice?
    As soon as the homes touch,
    who comes with the torches?
    Glare of glass, ash
    of the stars you make …
    And deaf loneliness like a bell
    (Lead gives nothing).

    I tried.
    Behind the ground and the winter.
    On the day of John.

    Liked by 2 people

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