December 31, 2008
The digital clock reads 2:17 A.M.,
but I don’t get the message
It’s time that I dance around now
Time is merely plotting my destination on a canvas touched by the feathered pens of all those before and all those to come,
I am no different, time is no different
Lest others forget that, it is paramount in ones life,
If one wants to live in the sense of using time
Think, you are given a piece of rope
What do you do?
Hold it taut?
No, spin it too a loop,
Unending, our eyes are at rest, one may try to see the end
but like all those before and those to come, you will not
Spun to a loop, collapse, and there is a spiral.
Spin the rope as one can spin minutes.
There does not have to be something before anything
If we simply make the perfect circle.

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winsteadi said...
Jan. 8, 2009 at 5:38 pm
Great poem. So many levels
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