Infinity
The time is coming
At the start it creeps
Turtle like taking is slow
Steps so small we barely
Perceive the grains falling
~
Soon what once was an eon
A crystal sparkling clear
It becomes mottled imperfect
Still the cohesive glue of you
And me bind us tightly
~
So quietly it accumulates
Like and apparition we can
Barely acknowledge it exists
But the ghost knows
Precisely where it leads us
~
We though, are blinded by
Its spirit of the present
The father of the past rides
By our side to be sure
The future inhales its last breath
~
Now the pace once snail like
Emerges with the speed
Of jets or light a dangerous
Avalanche is summoned
From the gray skies above
~
The one day or hour or year
The time stands still
The clock its mechanism is
Shattered destroyed its hands
No longer capable to stem the tide
~
The time is now here and
In an instant disappears
Into oblivion it wanders
That time once ours we
Destroyed for we are no more. |
Sally Mour
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Growing up by the shores of the Atlantic Ocean just eighteen miles from New York City the author, Sally Mour began seriously writing at the ripe old age of ten years old. While her first love was journalism, the difficulty of breaking into that field opened other opportunities. In a short period of time, Poetry surfaced as her one true love. Now older then dirt, she resides bi-coastally between California and Michigan. While playing part time computer consultant, she never leaves the love of the written word.
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