Scavenging for Time

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Image credit: Geraldus Galinaus Kas/Shutterstock.com

These days I find I’m scavenging for time lost, time gone
And all the children running by don’t realise how soon it passes
In such a rush I see them pace not even realising this time, this space
Is nothing more than shifting sand and when they finally come to land
On who they’ll be and who they won’t
It’s far too late to turn the tide
Make other choices, deep inside
They’ll feel the same as I do now
That time has yet escaped them too, how can anyone dig within the sand
And find one precious moment lost
It’s gone, gone, gone

Aging creeps up on you like a thief on a balmy summer’s night
Pretending just to pass you by but biting in your soul even so
A little bit as you come and go
Rushing to dreams that you’ll never know
And you have no practice at being old
You’re young so long and then its gone
The time has tricked us, every one
Till all the stars have fallen, died, there’s not even one
To wish upon
They’re gone, gone, gone.

(C ) Helen Valentina 2019

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
This entry was posted in Air, Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Scavenging for Time

  1. No practice being old for sure. Excellent, Helen.

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