Saturday, August 16, 2008


I have been noticing the parade of time lately
marching jubilantly across my friends’ faces,
fertilizing each life stage my sons race through and
dragging down the soft contours of my frame

a silent river, invisible and swift, carrying away
one day after the next
edging flowers out of the earth
trampling them then back to loam,
building our young from seed cells to
marbled flesh grown
on to lanky strong bodies
that eventually curl to shrunken shells
of themselves

our bodies are mere mile markers in this race of indefinite end
that turns brown to green to yellow orange red brown again
feel it gaining speed each turn of the season
frost floods of spring barreling down mountain streams and
fall’s hurricane winds whipping wildly through trees
a frenzy of change, of cycles, reprise
with power and momentum that never cease


in the eye of this storm I find I’m defenseless
flailing and grasping to reign in my senses
to come back to the moment and be here right now
to witness, experience and listen to how
amidst this rampage of growth and decay
imperceptibly the most devout of songs plays
the undercurrent, the harmony heard only
when we deign our minds still
the thrum rises up like a sap
with which our veins slowly fill
with its essence of each moment existing tranquil
deliberate and wholly in the now
each separate zen instant
ending adamantly as it begins
the force of the stillness sets the mind to spin

it’s inscrutable this paradox of time raging on
composed of a train of never-ending seconds
individually lethargic, gradual, brief
but time that deft bandit gathers them, a nimble thief
leaving only traces and memories on our minds and our flesh
like the skin now threadbare that covers my breasts
they’re silt-dust soft as a favorite shirt worn see-through
the caress of aging that I never quite knew
to expect or to love as these lessons I learn
for youth and days past it’s so easy to yearn
but the element of time our compassionate master
nudges us onward sometimes slow, sometimes faster
to the inevitable and gorgeous culmination of our days
and we have the great joy of indulging on the way
in each second, instant, moment, hour, year and phase
and I am gathering my rosebuds while I may
and I speak to suggest that you do the same
but unlike the poet of that phrase’s fame
I implore you to endeavor that your gathering persist
long beyond the days of your prime

time does what it does and there is no denying
but how we define its impact is our way of trying
to live absolutely our fullest and best
to soak it all up before our shells rest
to make peace with ourselves and our own perfection
as creatures laconic without resurrection

I know, I say it all the time- we die!
but dear ones my point is to see through the lies
of the inequity of age and the falsehoods of danger
so we will live and live and live
and never be as strangers
to each other, to experience and
to our own corporeal selves
we are so blessed to inhabit this realm

time giveth and time taketh away
but even in the taking there are gifts that remain
so hold them, examine them, let them wide in
feel it move across your skin
I am absorbing this lifetime and letting it

1 comment:

just said...

I love this poem.