Time’s Jail-Cell-Band

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

Aside from the needy…

I’m reminded how asleep many of us have been with time,
when we were taught to believe such was everything,
the quintessential measure of control,
the luxurious way to stave off intervals counting down.

To remain 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 alarm with a reminder,
never in need of winding.

Yet…

Like my Timex and Casio,
reserved in dependable back up mode,
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,
there is no avoidance,
for Time is Time,
just as we’ve created it.

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.
Some 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 their airborne escape leaves 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 oceans and island sanctuaries of land,
racing the sun,
reminding us and our means of Time,
is but a modern means of Nature's way,
ultimately unable to be outraced, or bought.

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

Still…

Like a series of giant hourglasses
of unpredictable movement,
mass weakens,
buildings tumble,
purging 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,
most only gaze at a star-filled forever
and continue the faithful allegiance to Time.

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

For some of us…

There's something about watch-less wrists,
a Time irrelevance that allows just being.