Friday, March 2, 2018

Time

Can you hear it?

The black darkness calls out to the rising sun
The sea draws  down the mountail rills
The bud is called out by the crystal snow
Grass by frozen hills

Silence screams out for birdsong
An empty wall for a brush stroke bold
Grief pleads for a warm embrace
And pain for a hand to hold

What are the sounds that fill our ears
What impulsions clench our straining fists?
What are the voices that call us forward
Muse sirens parting our future mist?

Ticker tape ticker tape tapping code
Tapping out life’s minuted abode
Ticker tape ticker tape unvaried rhythm
Beeping, marking, recording time
Ticker tape ticker tape using space

Till one day, ticker tape stops and dies

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