Slipping Through Time

Reflection on Flying Life

Photo by Kunj Parekh on Unsplash

I watch my life,
Slipping from my hands,
Like wilted leaves,
Gathering in corners,
Pressing close to thresholds,
Stirred by restless gusts,
That whip and turn,
Mirroring us,
Our paths along cracked pavements.

Worn stone steps,
Release a cascade of fragments,
Bits of the season,
Rushing to gutters,
Drifting over canals,
Freckled as we are,
With the soft ruin,
Of yellow-brown whispers.

When I am older,
Slower in my steps between panes of light,
When I am older,
And my loves rest in memory’s embrace,
When I am older,
Awed by the rhythm of each passing year.

I will rise,
With the first light,
Set my feet to earth,
And draw breath anew,
As though for the very first time.