Time trickles through us,
through and through us...
born and reborn, I am borne
on the bloodrush of fear,
flowing of sweat, upwards,
borne up the tall, winding,
tilting staircase of years.
Time trickles through us,
through and through us...
precarious, stilted,
rounding the corner...
up through the helix
spiral of years
to where we are bound
where all will be stalled
where the trickle is stemmed
though the years of ascent
seem so far to extend.
Time trickles through us,
through and through us...
The pulse of the veins,
the drain of the fluids
that course and make way
through the brain...
the throb that ignites me,
will take me to heights,
and to depths...
and I try in my frailty
to harness the time,
to make time a friend but
time trickles through us,
through and through us...
failing and aging, the body must die...
Time is our master, and though we insist
that love will transcend all, that death will not end all,
still my heart says only Time will persist.
Janice Windle
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ups-and-downs-collection-time-is-the-master/
