painting Time

I stare toward the foggy hues of the sky
An indistinct pink-yellow pastel spread
Where the sun is preparing for its slumber.
My breath comes out, dancing vapor,
Liberating itself towards the darkening air.

I wonder, because it seems that’s all I do.
I repeat the rhythm of a forgotten song
Fragment of a deep and restless ocean
In which I used to calmly wallow.

I think about the teetering steps
I trembled as a curious toddler
Trying to hold and cherish the world.
Like so many humans,
Dancing in a perennial darkness,
Trying to smile to the deep unknown.

The clock hands turn and turn,
With a monotonous tick tock
They define the realms of this rushing.
I miss the reassuring warmth
Of my mother’s securing hands.
I miss sleeping, forgetting about the morrow.

Life drifts like a boat in an arctic sea,
Smashing against the cold ice,
Screaming in a distant silent song.
Life is like a tumbling summersault
And before we realize
If we’ve done it right,
It’s over.