Lifeless Airports

At night, there’s a strange silence
in a lifeless airport.

Aside from the needy…

I’m reminded how asleep many of us were back then,
that time when we were taught to believe wealth was everything,
the quintessential measure of control,
the luxurious way to stave off Time.

To become awake
is to see no difference
between Duration's myriad clock faces
and how they move, what they do.

Oh, my…

There's my Omega watch telling time,
never in need of winding.

Yet…

Like my Timex and Cassio,
now packed away,
resting in a drawer awaiting their own ticker deaths,
they too await slavery to Time…
just like the eventual Omega death.

Yes...

I, my time pieces, your means of time as well,
all have learned the hard way
there’s little we should fear,
for Time is Time, as we’ve created.

However way it's recorded,
high quality watch,
economy style throw-away,
hourglass or sundial,
makes no difference in the end,
we, they, all become merely the past.

Time reminds us of its enigmatic existence in unique ways.

Had this car.
It ran, but transmission whined,
Sometimes hesitated,
Like my "love" life,
my "expression" life,
just wheels changing lanes,
eventually exhausting the paved surface,
returning to its essence,
sand and gravel raw,
even if barely moving.

Modernized surfaces…

Some of us have flown private Learjets.
Now there's this Airbus A380.
A 21st century people-mover
where eight hundred pairs of eyes
peer out the windows.

With tattered paper map at their side,
their maturing eyes are rewarded,
As they leave tragedy behind.

Like it or not…

Chronology continues happening below,
the tiny dots of life
swallowed by the shadow
of this behemoth swirl with wings
roaring across the ocean,
racing the sun,
reminding us and our means of Time,
Nature's way can't be outraced, or bought.

We’ve crossed many a night/day cycle,
one of Time's most ancient regulators.

Lest we forget…

Like a series of giant hourglasses
of unpredictable movement,
mass weakens,
buildings tumble,
surge only knowing flow,
flotsam rushing to replace sand as seashores.

Nature's unbridled awakening and retiring continues.

But...
It's getting late.

At night,
with the sun long hidden
below horizon's edge,
one can only gaze at a star-filled forever
and continue the faithful allegiance to Time.

Upon sunrise,
we’ll fit the silver and gold jail-cell-band back on,
listen to the "click" of the titanium clasp,
fasten Time’s seat belt,
feel the touchdown on a runway unknown,
await the day's rush to arrive and survive.

There's something about lifeless airports…
a travel venue that instills hope for those able to fly.