What’s with you, dear Time?
Gaging all in this soul of mine
What’s with you, bully Time?
Give me pause to rise and shine
What’s with you? Like some cage
Minding the sun to make me age
Thy tyranny is sheer dread
Without thee no life nor death
No sunset no sunrise
No blossoms nor tides
Earth would fester, earth would freeze
No leaves to dance in the breeze
When will you stand still
‘N let me soak love until
Filled with warmth, abounding joy?
Why endow me with passion ‘n keep me buoyed?
Then kill the feelings with passing whiles
Exhausting strength, thirsting more time
Big Bang’s the felon
Time’s the outcome
Since then, Universe in motion
Life ebbs and flows in sweet commotion
For all life time cruelly consumes
While renewal to splendidly resume
How can I love yours truly
Knowing even love’s eternity
Will close, infinity to deny?
Mercy of the clock, humans decry!
Oh Time, when can I gaze while standing
Life to hold still, for an instant’s passing?
To suck in beauty love and art
Without fear that all will depart
©Alwi Shatry, All Rights Reserved, September 14, 2017
-
Author:
Seek (
Offline) - Published: September 14th, 2017 19:40
- Comment from author about the poem: A challenging theme to tackle. Who knows, as a work in progress, this may look different later on.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 26
Offline)
Comments2
Great way to look at time, and very well written!
Your comment and encouragement is well appreciated, FredP.
Time, like space, is an illusion, and causation of confusion and delusion as well
Promoted to a chronicler of events, pre-big bang and time itself
Thank you for your provocative thoughts, Suresh. They are appreciated. Hmmm, but my increasingly white hair and wrinkles tell me a different story about time. As do the bulges popping up in the different parts of my anatomy may have to say about space, lol.
We are Observables, formed of energy/matter, that decays based on its interactions with other Existence. Space is infinite, an absolute vacuum, a reflective canvas, where the Observable becomes visible.
Our white hair and our bulges is matter changing form and function, but in itself is eternal where even illusory time cannot erase it.
These subjects are intriguing to me, engrossing me, to find myself. Pardon me!
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