Times flies…
On wings and breath and
wind
It
lifts and for a time we soar
Time flies…
as we stand mute
hoping it will linger
on exquisite moments of intimacy
as we sniff a baby’s head
embrace a friend
create
a poem, a picture, a
sensuous dish.
Time flies…
Like a humming bird,
a bee
collecting experiences
like sweet nectar
only to stall and dive
piercing the depths of our
liquid emotions
searching for absolution
from
pain, frustration,
disappointment, sorrow.
Time flies…
Clipping the very wings
with which we soared.
Future, past
Past, future
a beating pulse
a metronome of
wings to keep us aloft
The present being only the
half beat in between.
Time flies...
in one
direction
we cannot
stop it, slow it
or turn it back.
We can only ride its
currents.