Friday, December 10, 2010

short hand, long hand, grains of sand

so many suns and moons have pasted themselves against that same blue sky

and so many hearts have beat their wings against cages made of ribs


time is a web

sewn by master spiders

time is a quilt

patched by a old women fingers

time is a song

vibrating out of infant mouths

it is all we have on this earth

in this dream that we call life

too trivial to be taken seriously

too serious to call it a joke

is it a concept our imaginations have crafted?

is it every eyelash and lid opening and closing?
is it every footstep toward the horizon?

every heaving of our empty lungs?


how should we count?

by clock, by hour glass, by digital watch
or
by lovers, by tears, by our children,by our wrinkles, by our failures and success


maybe

but I will not count
there is only one. chance.
life is a large moment
I am but a moment

I am time




written by Marika May









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