Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Colourful plastic
Slip through,
Fall away
Scattered
By earth's pull.
Ground down below
Exerts Force Field.
Battle of wills.
But
"What goes up
Must come down"
Eventually.
And things precious
Pryed from knuckled fists,
Stripped away
By Time,
If not Violence.
There is an inevitability in dispossesion, mingled well with despair. In a last, desperate attempt to retrieve lost treasure, your lungs, heart and mind, body and soul scream, "STOP!"
Activity here, above and beyond, for a splitsecond, suspended. Mortal agony ripping through boundaries of space, time and matter.
You wonder if someone heard you scream.
But "Time waits for no man".
The ground wins hands down every time.
planted @
9:10 AM
