Father Time

Can you hear that illusive sound?

Penetrating our every moment?

Invading now, today

Returning to then

Tomorrow but an echo of when

And then, creeping existence

Almost dormant

Is driven from mighty heavens

To solid ground

By that persistent

Rhythmic ticking sound

Abound in every instance

Framework of space

Co-existence with relativity

In the flow of history

A monitor of age

Father to the race

Bearer of scale

Never contradictory

Does give us a name

And shows us a face

Every being bows

To his grace

And serves to his will

With persistent fate

So you hear that ticking sound?

Sounds different to you than to me

See his face

Does yours have a name?

Like God or Buddha

Karma or Fame

Fortunate favors

Whatever flavor

But you can never forget that sound

Illusively floating in moments at bay

Propelling all motion

Turning over the day

Dark hours echo

That ticking sound

As Father Time passes

Staff clinking the ground

~

DBrown Fisher

© Oct 1997