Every second
Our lives move
Forward
Suspended
Precariously
Between
The past
And
The future
Only ever
Existing
For
The briefest moment
In the flow of Time
Where
As with all things
Like the Turning of the Earth
They instantly become
Either history
Or matters of pure speculation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was only thinking about this same subject, today, Egal. You have expressed it so eloquently, and it was a delight to read. Beautifully written. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX