Endless Time?

By Beverly Greene

NOTE: This poem is protected by international copyright laws and may NOT be reproduced in any form without Beverly Greene's expressed and written consent.

Time ticks away
like the heartbeat
of some unkonwn
martyr
and I can't help
but wonder if
time feels the wounds
it supposedly heals.

Never ending,
never taking a break,
time marches on
like a brave soldier
with a job to do.
Both the trumpet player
bringing in a new day
and the violin playing
crickets ringing in the night,
time bares the weight
of all things.

Nothing exists
out of time.
No love is formed,
no heart broken,
no child born,
no dying mother,
no needed silence,
no blood curling scream,
no words of wisdom,
no acts of foolishness.

Without time
calmly pushing on
we would no longer
even exist.
We would be
little more
than empty shells
afloat in a void
full of the nothingness
we call humanity.

Yet, the minute hand
is as predictable
as it ever was
and we never
take a second
to think about it.

Until our watch stops.

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� 1999 Beverly Greene owns all rights to this original poem.

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