Sunday, January 15, 2012

POEM: The space between the words of this title

It is a gift we all possess
  Yet is seldom given
It has no pricetag
  But it has a price
  Yet it is priceless

We have plenty of it
  Yet we have none
Or rather, we find comfort in telling ourselves that it has its own spirit that cannot be tamed
  Yet it very gladly gives in to us when with conviction, we clutch its reigns

We celebrate its progress
  Yet we mourn its inevitable end
It is our enemy
  It is our friend

It is found between these letters, these words, these stanzas
  Between each thought that formed these lines
Found in every day, hour that passes
  Yes - it is the falling sands of Time.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

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