Thursday, August 24, 2006

What Passes for Time

Time passed you one day
while you grappled life’s minutiae,
as you held the baby,
counted your grey hairs,
planted seed in your garden.

Impatience never tempered
you learned to stand quiet
in the eternal queue.

And now there is
no time to spend.
and years have creased
your solemn brow-
what then?

Distil your memory
to drink deeply
a life draught
that keeps solace
warm.

Alone
will be your fate,
of foolish exile
and the faith
all shall be as memory

What then?
the ravage on your face
the years have traced
no more time to spend
and when was there?

Lost in reverie
hours idly strewn;
did you waste time?

On an ancient clock face
golden seconds glimmer
scenes held orb-like
as weight yearning in your hand
you felt passed time.

Blogger doesn't allow me to show this poem the way it was written - the two halves, as such, are meant to appear side by side as mirrors/echoes of each other. Oh well.

Thanks to Poetry Thursday for another gift idea! Time is one of my favourite preoccupations.


5 comments:

bb said...

even if it's not intended, i like the lay out as it stands now. it's as though the reflection has dropped a little :-)

twitches said...

Lots of nice slant rhymes and rhythms. I like the idea of the "eternal queue" and "a life draught that keeps solace warm."

Minx said...

Some lovely images here Cailleach, another little gem.

Blogger doesn't seem to allow for artistic control - complain!

apprentice said...

Lovely piece, I too like the slant that the blog gives it.

chiefbiscuit said...

All so true ... well put. It beras reading over and over to get more from it - like sucking the juice!