what is time
but a question
of knowing, or not
what happens tomorrow
and the past
you forgot
no power to haunt
and draw new blood
to ever exist
in this moment
the future unblemished
by imagined fear
we live in the now
unchained and free
moments of guilt and shame
left behind with yesterday
does the river ask
when will i arrive
in time to spill
into the sea of salt
what of yesterday
and banks burst
with raging, rising
must i regret and repent
does the seed question
unravelling stem, wriggling root
as to the hour
the arrival of saplinghood
we call the time
by a rising, sinking sun
a star which burns regardless
less mindful than we
what is time
but an aberration
useful for timetables
a rueful latter day epiphany
Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann
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