TIME
I sit on your window sill,
Balanced and composed,
My creation is complete;
I am made of eons and eras,
My belly had digested all,
That there is, was, and will be;
I am free, freer than a bird,
Or fish in the sea;
I move into yesterday,
Coming out of tomorrow;
Would you open your window for me?
We can frolic the throes of existence,
We can unmake history;
Pulling on a string of yarn, we’ll gather up
All that can be; and still be,
Whatever there already is.
© gillena cox
Revisit to read
of time
sometimes its time
Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Time
