Saturday, December 17, 2011

An Encounter with Time

Time appeared to me
And when she spoke
She softly said,
                  “Take hold my hands and watch them glide,
                  And let the waves heal your seconds with each weep”
For the fox whispers into gloves on this night

         Animating glands within
         Pressure plated strands of yin
         Faded from the
         Withered waltz
         Since destiny passed last march

And so the fox tilts back its ruffled neck, as it sits atop its rigid parapet

         Amassing all anthologies
         Created amongst the masks of stone
         Crawls creation back into its often weathered home
         Made of clay and soil thus
         Sifting birth through plated palm
Back into the hole protracted
By the hands of man in trust

The fox’s song ignites the air, forgetting the form in which it breathes, yet the sound produced is pleasant still, mournful, yet proclaimed with such a joyous ease, so smooth, yet sung with a jaded crush, to that it lost and loved as much.

Time appeared to me
And when she spoke
She softly said,
                           “Return to me.”


  1. Time moves and passes no matter the little rhyming umm masses. Like the play on time, such a fun chime. Some want to go back other ahead, oh now this will hurt the head. The analog to digital was a great touch. Destiny's last march liked much. Time is great to use in books too, as three I've used it for that have come due..haha

  2. damn man. this is a hot much to love about that time is a fox...and a she...and speaks so this of my favs honestly....magical and lyrical.

  3. Time as a fox -- cunning, willy, slippery.
    I think it's well to pay attention to that call to return to it, for sometimes one is stuck in a moment grieving over a loss or not letting go of something that is already gone. Really like this one.