An Eulogy to Time’s Phases by Lucy Pickett.

A remix to “Time’s Paces” by Henry Twells, this is personal to me.

When as a child, I laughed and wept,

Time crept.

An innocent, on the tightrope of youthful unknowing, picking up the crayons and exploring, I was.

Asking questions till daybreak, was I.

Pretending,

A mask on my face, I

had all the time in the world.

When as a youth, I waxed more boldly.

Time strolled.

And the lightning bugs flickered, in our,

Hands, we grew,

upon a pedestal of learning,

On the backs of imaginations and schooling,

We flew.

When I became a full grown women,

Time Ran, as..

If it were a teenage boy doing the mile,

Swiftly, chasing dreams, throwing obstacles, huge, like elephants, and dodging them, I was.

That youthful glow on my cheeks, has gone dimmer, yet the imagination is still there.

The unicorns and fairies have never left the,

Back of my mind, they

Stay, intact and happy and magical.

But, my play has been driven out by the grits and grime of endless homework, and,

I’m gruelingly tired, for

I have no time.

And I know the dark, twisting secrets of the world, now.

When older still, I daily grew,

Time flew,

Barreling crazily through,

Complex life,

Learning to live, half alive,

Dredged by expectations, and loud chatter of the “future,”

Time has fallen from my hands like sand, and soon,

I shall find, in passing,

Time gone.

And what then?

All the could’ve dones’ and what if’s and hours typing on the computer,

Refiguring, reworking, rewriting, reprinting, renaming, resharing, re-editing, reshaping,

All down the drain of time.

All the time reserved for learning, stuck inside, cramming, and tired,

Gone.

A waste.

O Christ, I wilt, Thou have saved me then?

I just hope that I maintain my imagination, happiness, innocence, and joy,

And live life the way, that

A naive child who believes they have all the time in the world, would,

Before it’s too late.

Amen.