Time – Poetic Meanderings

The Path

Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, Where the good way is, and walk in it… —Jeremiah 6:16, NASB Photo by Caiden Horton Well-worn stones carved by years of stormwater and wild winds, a slow degradation, our Earth’s eroding ways —these are time markers, silent clocks but for the low Continue reading “The Path”

Autumn’s Cotillion

Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an autumn sound. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning The last dance of the butterflies in this mid-October homage to spring, the wildflowers wait for the shift to northern winds, for frost to touch the ground and silence growth, but today there is time to flit and flutter underContinue reading “Autumn’s Cotillion”

Inescapable Dawn

The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light. — William Shakespeare Shy sun, resting behind a passing cloud, not ready to star in the requirements of hours, he waits behind a gray curtain, but his brilliance escapes, reminding us a full infusion of light will dawn… So,Continue reading “Inescapable Dawn”

Diffusing Beauty

Maybe flowers weep, heaving sadness up through the stem and down the tender leaves, distilling living beauty into the vapor of perfume so that at least their scent will be carried into a world too busy to slow into an awareness that beauty lives everywhere. —C.L. Fisher, March 2021 Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writingContinue reading “Diffusing Beauty”

Expressions of Time

“Forever — is composed of Nows —” —Emily Dickinson Time was created by God Who lives outside of our linear existence — take a moment and imagine eternity: no beginning, no end, no minutes or hours, no way of clocking, no pace of before or after — just existence unframed. We can’t comprehendContinue reading “Expressions of Time”

My Away

I couldn’t capture it before my commute, as the morning’s minutes ticked me to late; I wanted to bundle up the leftovers from a few years ago, some squandered or unwanted from another day, but time cannot be kept like a savings account. It swept me past noon, and as so many days before,Continue reading “My Away”

Now

Time is a strange concept — a dimension, a progression, a measurement, a spell, the reason we age. When we count minutes, it flees or stands still; when we forget the clock, it loses meaning until a chime or falling shadow forces us back to our tick tock existence. Time is temporal, for the flesh;Continue reading “Now”