Friday, January 4, 2013

Soundless Rush





Time makes no sound as it rushes
In moment-spun centuries
Gathering within its surging wake
Nothing, but memories

Thought is a wandering way-farer
Treading where feet cannot go
Back to the hours that silently slipped
Into Time’s ethereal flow

Within its ephemeral fabric
Of woven mortality
Are heart-wrenching triumphs and sorrows
Brief as sun-sparkles at sea

The babble of being distracts us
From Time’s intangible rush
But oh, just now I felt on my cheek
A drop from its relentless brush

© J~

My 'soundless rush' will soon be full of noise
...the kind made only by four fourteen year-old boys!:)

Matt has some friends over. I think they finally went to sleep a few hours ago!

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!