Time is that which tells us nothing more
than a specific position of hands, moving-
forward, relentless, like music in Presto,
at times, arrhythmic, as the movements
seem faster, and faster like a Heart-
in crisis...Arrhythmia! And all we can do
is fold our hands high in a steeple formation,
and point them to the cloud of your choice...
the one that takes form of someone's image
you loved or something you've seen in a dream.
In th' interim, alas, all we can do
is make the most of what time will afford us;
paths, Love, bearing life's many fruits
despite the sins of Free Will and Eden;
and the anti-Christs, Oh! Thank God for Judgment...
'when Time....., tick-tock, tick-tock,
s....t....o...........................................?
©2019-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr. /FjR
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