The Ticking of the Clock
Regardless of the space
We are in
Time is always ticking
Even when we forget
To wind the clock
Time just keeps ticking
Silence in the hall
And as time passes
We grow older
Hard to believe
We are so old
The road from here
To there
Is forever shorter
The dangers ahead
Unknown
And yet we get up
Each morning
To face another day
A little voice says
Make it count
It could be the last
Make it count
Few are left
And then,
What if we could turn the clock back
Would we?
Would it make things different?
The river only runs in one direction
No need to worry
What will be/will be
The clock keeps ticking
January 2, 2019
8 comments:
I like the flow of your thoughts, reflecting on time...almost ticking away until the end...acceptance. Unfortunately,can't stop the clock. Love the river metaphor.
I think it would turn out about the same... and sooner or later the river runs dry.
We simply need to be here now Annell. Live in the infinte now. The rest, as you astutely point out, will be what it will be - beyond our control. HNY 2019
"What will be/will be": Wisely said. A thoughtful poem! :-)
there's a delicate serenity in your life affirming words, things we notice but never take heed of, good reminders to start the new year with
I think we understand things far too late - and yes I think many would change things if they could. But that isn't the way of things... We envy youth and at the same time shake our heads... :)
It does indeed. And so true...as time passes, the road does get shorter...and ultimately there is 75% of it behind us...then 80%....or really...do we know the exact percentage behind us? As the road in front of us gets shorter, time goes faster..because there’s less to travel. It’s why every day, I say “Thankful for every day.”
Good observation about the clocking ticking even if we don't wind it.
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