THE HANDS OF TIME, by Sean Brown

Time echoes within the Chambers of Thought,
Bouncing off the walls to dissipate after wearing down under its own force.
Not a fiction, nor is this trivial & idle speculation,
Eventually waves recede & the Mind proceeds beyond the measurement of illumination.
Dedication perfected becomes Persistence without limits,
Hug Me tight with Your nuclear arms & I’ll hug You back for 1 minute,
1 second, 1 hour, 1 year, 1 century, it’s all One Day.
A millennium gets played out in every moment, just watch the atomic molecules play.
Schrdinger’s cat wasn’t even in the box to begin with,
Yet We play the waiting game, theorizing on what to come up with.
Still, I’m on My way, hoping to find that great answer,
To Life’s Mystery & reverse the curse that turned Man into the Earth’s cancer.
The Engine’s running out of steam,
Everyone’s caught up in this Beautiful Disaster.
A Laughing Tragedy,
Where the characters try in vain to keep their expressions mastered.
Huh, what else is new? Really, what’s next?
Everybody come on down & place Your bets.
Bear in mind that this rat race is no true contest,
Can’t worry about who’s who, & what trends are set.
The comparison game’s a con, the odds are rigged;
So that as soon as You catch up, all the rules get switched.
The sole remedy’s to focus on One’s own Blessings,
Raising the standards within Self to keep growing with each Lesson,
Realizing that real Worth is found outside the popular retinal scope.
Now, that’s being fully Alive & truly wide Awoke.
My, Oh My. Hope can never be trapped
By the hands of Time standing still,
only by trying to turn them back.

DOC #1083630

Categories: poems, Sean Brown

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