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