Julius Ceasar

Why is it
When the waves stop crashing
On white shore sands
The clouds start clapping and

Why is it
When heat gets too hot
Too white hot too quick
To extinguish with the rains

Why is it
Months are actually days
And days are jokes of time
And seconds of glances
Just wont do

Why is it
Every question has no answer
And answers hang dry
In white hot clapping skies

Why is it
When I thought I lost,
I’d won for once.
Until the jokes of days
Tap their watches
And drag me off your shores

Why is it
No matter where these days take me
I’ll know exactly how to find you
By mapping the stars in the sky at night,
And the stars in the sand by day

Why is it
I forget seconds and glances
Turn to jokes of days
Who meet at night to form months
And months form years
And years form lifetimes of
Possibilities and unfinished endings-
But most important of all importants-
unfinished beginnings.

One question remains,
Who’s answer is held secret
By those days we’ve passed--
But I’m not willing to ask-





Why is it July?