Time is not
in just a season or a place
to be dancing itself dead --
for it hangs
even in the pauses
of its merriment.
Time neither
asks nor gives
takes away, nor replaces itself...
as easily does a woman
comb and brush anew
the strands of yesterday
into a better arrangement.
For though we may or might or try
-- all our pleasurable yearnings
appeased or pleaded --
cannot bring time back,
to amend or break itself again
to renew, or repeat...
as broken was a vase,
that could no longer be
nor be re-pieced...
as was it was before complete:
Sometimes, if we are fortunate, time will feel as though it is passing slowly, sometimes quickly, but in reality it just keeps relentlessly moving forward, nice write...
Sometimes when I close my eyes I can "feel" time rushing past my face like a breeze. Your verses remind me of this, Richard. Thank you. Love and peace to you,
Nothing defines time like looking at the diminishing sand pile on the top of a hourglass, with quicksand devouring quality.
But if one carelessly crushed it...
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Axilea
Love And Prayers
Always!!
"Time-Thought" is a well-conceived and well-penned write - thanks!!
Best regards,
Lance
Be always safe,
Karen
Regis
But if one carelessly crushed it...
Georg