Unrelenting, the Pendulum Swing
Where goes time
to relent on its incessant nature,
a respite from the ticking burden of its plight,
its perception so misconstrued,
that so eludes a human mind,
a moment short, a moment long,
just from the feeling of it,
our perceptions perhaps so wrong.
Time cannot escape itself,
cannot deny its truth,
like the swing of a pendulum,
extremes in gradation a constant ruse,
as it never stops
and is always somewhere else,
for us to see but hardly grasp,
barely understanding its ever-changing girth.
Are we then the enigma,
unable to understand,
when time may be a simplicity, despite
all we contend and muse in arrogant stance,
thinking for one minute we know,
when truths for us are not elastic,
a full stop after every plot,
and we see but a minor reflection,
when we stare in the mirror, and feel we are not.
Wound in time’s prolific flow,
we just cannot know its whims,
and for all our thoughts and assumptions known,
time still leads us to moments
where getting their remains an oblivion:
lost in time’s rises and falls,
and we but a spectator,
a cork upon an ocean sin.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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I love your verses that make me ponder. I remember watching a gigantic pendulum in a museum. The swinging of the perpetual motion was mesmerizing and made a whooshing sound. No matter which way the Earth rotated that pendulum kept a true north/south position – so at times it looked like it was hanging at an angle when actually I was standing at an angle I was told. It was like an otherworldly thing and rather scared me (I was quite young at the time). Time – where does it go and what is it really? I wonder if I turned fast enough I could meet myself in the past or future? If I don’t show up again here I may be in another dimension somewhere. See? You did it again. Great work here, Tony.
Glad it made you think, its great how we can spark each others minds with thought. Then, as writers, we weave something else and the process is never-ending. Have a great day Phyllis.