The Sand in the Glass

Feb 19th, 2016 | By | Category: Fiction

We always want the sand to be coarser than it is.

The smooth granules slide through the neck
always passing through quickly as if to avoid
having to make the decision to do so.

If I leave my hourglass in the rain
will it slow time down?

Will it freeze these moments of bliss?
And those beautiful struggles-
to remember them, not letting them go?

The sand has no bearing on the pendulum
and the universal chronometer always keeps things
going, knowing exactly where you are.

If time knows where I am, then time is all the more invasive.
Time is kudzu with infrared binoculars and electronic surveillance.

We all think we have the aim to kill this predator of our precious moments
or at least we try to center it in our cross-hairs.
But, find that the safety is always on.
So, we stand there as it slowly recognizes our youth,
then it charges our air of invincibility
knocking us down in middle age.
Standing tall over us, as we shrink older.

We play dead and hope it doesn’t take notice.
We hope that it all doesn’t end in irony,
that we don’t kill ourselves trying to kill time.

Healthy safeguards of gurus can provide preventive maintenance.
However, they will also provide enough confusion
to stall the growth;
not of the seconds ticking
but only of your own mind.

Overly concerned with our sand getting wet,
now the clocks are atomic, making adjustments with every rotation.
Trust how it feels under your feet.

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