Out of Time
Out
of Time
Spheres
are spinning – winding time.
Hear
the echoes of a chime
Toll
the hour – once here, now gone -
Days
are tallied by their tone
And
then you’re telling time.
Grains
are slipping by and by
Down
the glass of memory.
Reaching
with your groping hands
You
gather fistfuls of time’s sands
And
then you’re buying time.
Candles
flicker as they’re burning
With
the planets’ constant turning:
Flashing
out, while stars remain
To
captivate your eyes again,
And
then you’re taking time.
Days
are long and days are short
It
all depends upon the sort
Of
things you fill your hours with:
First
double every tenth to fifth
And
then you’re making time.
Drops
are falling ever steady
Splashing,
clashing – soft and ready.
Cupping
hands beneath the flow
You
hold back moments that would go
And
then you’re saving time.
Hearts
are beating every hour
Thrumming
with a hidden power.
Time
waits for no man, they say
E’en
as you idle it away
And
then you’re killing time.
Clocks
are ominously ticking,
Second
hands forever flicking
Moments
from present to past
Until,
at last, you’re at the last,
And
then you’re out of time.
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*mouth drops in awe for a moment*
ReplyDeleteThe entirety of time, and how it changes throughout the poem is an incredible metaphor that I love SO much!! Amazingly well done, and I feel like someone would write music to this poem!
Thank you! There is actually this really great song by Peter Crowley that would suit the poem very well! It's called "Time Will Catch Me First" Thank you for bringing it to mind! I think I'll post a link to it above :D
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