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How wonderful it would be

to stop counting time

forget one’s age

one’s height

one’s past

no hours or minutes

just moon and sun

and endless freedom

to discover

one’s age

one’s wisdom

the world

Art: Salvador Dali, The Persistence of Memory (1931)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fragments of the past collect in the corners of my mind

Glistening shards of broken Christmas decorations

fragile and lethal to tiny fingers

Soft and silky carpet of pine needles

in a fragrant forest long ago

Lapping water against a bobbing boat

hot sun spilling reflections like gems

Pages from myriad books

float and settle softly on the floor

A white cat whisker

caught in the weave of a shawl

scratches memories…

I scoop them gently

into a paper boat

and set it free on the wind of time

 

focus aout05

Art: Benoit Saito

 

 

Never look back

or you will turn into a pillar of salt

and your beloved will perish

Never look back

or you will see a face

you do not recognize

staring back at you

Never look back

unless you want to face time

and time has all the time

to face you

Never look back

on love and happiness

for you will see nothing

unless you believe…

Orpheus and Eurydice:Marie Chouinard

 

Orpheus and Euridice: Marie Chouinard

“The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already memory.”

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

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I can hear the past crashing behind me

great chunks of time peeling off

a giant chasm opening up

where my feet once trod

there is no turning back

with time propelling me

faster and faster into the future

as I grasp in desperation for the now

the past rumbling on my heels

relentless

what happens if I stop?

will the chasm swallow me?

will the past eat up my present and my future?

how long can I hover on the edge of a precipice

with no turning back?

the future beckons

just as relentless…

precipice-2