Tethered To Time
Spin-wheels whizzing,
cogs a turning,
endless clicks and measured yearning,
the clock sings its muted song,
as a spring slowly eases into malaise;
and I in frown observing,
myriad thoughts a soaring,
wonder peering into the plane of unresolved.
So complex this technology,
so intricate in absurdity,
all this movement,
thought and appeasement,
for this paradox of time;
and as I gaze into silent answers,
it strikes me with candor,
what we mimic is but imagination sublime.
We may measure with uncertainty,
delve into its proclivity,
but in the end duality prevails,
for what is time so rigid,
when in truth it bends, so liquid,
and changes in perspective
from each vantage point we fail;
yet we are slaves to our invention,
captured by intentions,
and lords of false contentions,
in our arrogant sense of self.
I gaze with such amusement,
at clock workings: time’s abuse,
and ponder every watchmaker’s quest,
to bring time from death to life,
and does that cause a strife,
the universe to follow each altered moment,
or are we at the edge of truths we cannot hedge,
and like children we play with concepts
we cannot grasp,
in the struggle to accept a rational lapse.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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The machinations of machinery, merely mimics the march of time. I had a girl friend once who set her watch 5 minutes fast so she would never be late!
Thanks John, yes we are slaves to a concept , misunderstood and in one sense a figment of our imagination. Cheers!