Poem: Time

Eyes closed and fingers reaching out,
Nothing remains the same ever,
A second's passing and there's the doubt,
That change is constant and nothing's never.

For time flits, and time flutters,
Dipping its wings for you and me,
Caging us and all that matters,
Within its essence, the time that be.

In rapture and time will fly,
Absent of heed and thought,
That plagues the wintry sky,
That toil and trouble have wrought.

None is spared its passing,
No old nor young nor man nor beast,
Can flee its touch, the everlasting,
That starts and ends the life, the feast.

And bound are we, by bone and blood,
To its tender mercy, or its chilling gaze,
For no man knows the futures that flood,
Within the confines of its temporal maze.