Chronological Relativism

The Black Widows mark...

An apt description...

our peril all too real...

One grain...

another...

another still...

count we all our mortal toil...

not because we live...

but because we don't...

fixated on the digits that reaffirm our life...

groaning at their slow steady movement...

poking at our wrist as if to prod them...

hastening them to serve our ends...

Consider perhaps my fellows in the sand...

that those who live don't count at all...

finding grains pass without their watching...

running seemingly at breakneck pace...

almost too few to contain the need...

not regretting a single grain...

thanking their maker for the passing...

why not live we such as they...

to whom immortality has appeal...

they would have such happiness every day...

grains clicking, ticking, falling without a thought...

until the last one falls then that is that...

do we breath and say as he, "rosebud"?

Or do we breath a sigh or giggle...

bidding the world a fond fair well...

Embracing eternity with open arms.

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Comments 2 comments

HendrikDB profile image

HendrikDB 6 years ago

Good.


Jaggedfrost profile image

Jaggedfrost 6 years ago Author

Welcome Hendrick, you think so? I am glad you came by. What did you like about this?

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