Comes a Time

by LisaMay

Time flies.
In quick-flicked feastings
we come back for seconds.
Hungry as hummingbirds, we flit, taste,
fly from flower to flower, nectar on our tongues.
With our hearts dizzy-beating our brains out,
no time to think, we drink up life’s excess
and look for more.

What a time we have
when there is Spring in our step.
We frolic with friends on the beach,
paying no mind to time’s sand
trickling through our flexed fingers.
The turn of the tide reflects the stars –
cascading galaxies, whirling as we do,
stamping our feet to a primeval beat.

But comes a time… comes a time...
we shake cosmic dust from our shoes.

Too soon, now heavy-footed
in metronomic measured tread,
we plod through the space
that is hours and ours, alone.

Weekly, we endure and suffer
our isolations and privations
within time’s ponderous passage,
carrying the scars of wisdom’s wounds.

We don’t mark time – time marks us.
Faltering, we lose our grip
as facts become phantoms.
Winding down, our hands slip.

In the arbitrary allotment of moments,
the pendulum swings
through our arc-marked span
in trajectories of joys and tragedies.
Under introspection,
the patterns of our personae are revealed
in the geometry of generations.
With time on our hands, we tune in to watch
the minutiae of our movements.

With ebb and flow, we come and go.

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Author's Note:
I have just returned from a 3-week vacation, travelling with 3 others in an RV camper van for 3,000 kilometres around southern New Zealand. Some places I remembered visiting with my ex-husband nearly 40 years ago, in our lively youth, something of a contrast to this recent trip which was far more sedate, and eventually dogged by illness and death - which is what triggered this poem.
One of our party came back early and has been hospitalised due to chronic health issues; as soon as I returned I had the funeral of another to attend; also, a friend had died in Australia; the neighbour's lovely cat had died; as had our hibernating hedgehog, Piggy (whom I have mentioned in my "Zoe" series of stories). Even my computer expired while I was trying to record our vacation.
All these dramas happened while I was happily out of touch enjoying remote activities and beautiful scenery - then back to the reality of how time changes everything. The message is grab it and enjoy it while you can.
(The photo was taken at Aramoana Beach, near the city of Dunedin, NZ, where I live.)

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Time changes everything.

Comes a Time

by LisaMay

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