Almosts

Some things are
Some things are
Not

Doors we open
Doors we leave
In thought

But what of time?

What of the calendars and clocks
That callously chalk
Up every win and every loss?

The steady march forward
Canvas of our lives
That which we rely on

To cover up
Transform
Disguise

Though instances never change

Moments are not designed to fit one man
But to fit the whole cosmos
Each occurrence a window
To absolute truths
Not almosts

Just as the seconds scramble
One always flees
From the most painful part

Just as the minutes ramble
One always talks of lessons
Learned and hopes for a fresh start

Just as the hours gamble
One rolls the dice on passivity
Ignoring callings of the heart

Through and as
Those inanimate hands
We spin these circles

Thinking we can escape
The point where everything aligns
Where all our meaning collides

High noon

One, two

You

 

 

A friend inquired about my take on “time as a gravitational force”. The above is something that stemmed from that prompt. I also figured it would be a good opportunity to ask my old blog buddy about the same prompt. You can read Ruth’s take here.

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