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Tag: time

Wake Up: gwawdonyn hir

Published on June 4, 2025

Wake up! The dawn is slowly creeping
behind the darkness. Just stop sleeping.
Dry those nightmare tears; end your weeping,
else your other dreams worth keeping
lose momentum and never see the light.
Right now is the only time to fight.
Please heed your urgent alarm’s beeping.

Wake up! There is not much time to lose.
You are defined by the path you choose,
not how you echo the world’s sad news
or crumble with each impact or bruise.
With every breath you must either stand or fall,
and only now exists for us all.
There is no option for you to snooze.

04 Jun 2025

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The Minute Waltz: englyn proest gadwynog

Published on May 27, 2025

In just a minute’s brief span
the world is made and unmade.
Try as you may, no one can
restore colors once they fade,

nor take back a piece once played.
There is no time but right now;
all the rest is lost in shade,
turned underneath new farrows.

You can choose to grow or die –
to sink a root or wither;
at least you think you decide,
while doing both or either.

27 May 2025

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Anybody’s Anything: droighneach

Published on May 20, 2025

Nothing that is temporary becomes infinite;
each thing’s just a project. It starts and it finishes,
simply an effect of a cause, made of composites
that wax and wane. Being comes and then diminishes.

Everything is empty – it is not separated
although it seems to be neatly subdivided.
It is only by illusions it is frustrated;
in that shadow state nothing feels it is united.

Anything that’s trapped in time’s grip stays motionless;
it is not really living, merely an appearance.
A thing grows to another thing, not quite motiveless,
but only what whole contains it maintains coherence.

Something doesn’t come into being from emptiness;
our busy minds create those lines of separation.
While we glorify our own sense of great sentience,
the world is otherwise engaged in all creation.

20 MAY 2025

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Tell Me Anything

Published on May 8, 2025

In the silence coming down
at the dimming of the day,
something whispers on the breeze
and it takes my breath away.

Does it tell me anything
that I don’t already know?
Is it more than could have beens
and a couple told you sos?

In the silence of the night
after the sun has gone to bed,
something sings a simple song
that just echoes in my head.

When the words come on the wind
do they tickle in your ear?
Do they brush away the clouds
in the evening sky, so clear?

As the hours slip away
does the music slowly fade
into memory and myth,
ancient stories and charade?

In the silence, when you breathe
in the taste of new day,
something rests upon your tongue
but you’ve got nothing left to say.

Does it matter much at all,
what you mean and what you do?
Will the day continue on
without making much of you?

So the hours come and go,
yet the song still wants to play.
In the end, who really knows
whether it should be that way?

08 MAY 2025

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The Time is Now: common measure

Published on May 6, 2025

The only time is now;
your thoughts and prayers and plans
imagining the future won’t
get you out of quicksand.

short measure

It’s movement that you need.
Look down – there at your feet,
is where you start out to the street.
You’ll need both strength and speed.

hymnal stanza

For the battle isn’t out somewhere,
waiting as your courage grows.
No, it’s here. You’ve haven’t got the time
for might-have-beens or clever told-you-sos.

long measure

What you believe is worth your living for –
that’s what’s at stake right now. Make no delay;
without you, its survival chance is poor.
The time is now. There is no other day.

long hymnal stanza

06 MAY 2025

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Uncertain Eternity: bref double

Published on April 24, 2025

Pretend we will not meet again on some bright future shore;
once they are gone, the things we love are gone forever more.
But then again, there is no me to miss them when they go;
I likewise will just disappear at some point, even though

I’d like to think eternal thoughts, and in some future, know
the secrets of the universe, and say, “I told you so.”
My energy may linger on beyond this mortal coil,
but there is nothing past the grave except some worms and soil.

Quite honestly, that is enough; one life is enough time
to figure out just who I am. The pressure is sublime,
but keeps me honest, truth be told, and there’s some good in that.
More, and I’d be self-satisfied, and grow lazy and fat.

What would you do with endless time, nothing to figure out?
Not much more than we’re doing now, of that there is no doubt.

23 APR 2025

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Suppositions: blank verse

Published on April 21, 2025

There’s no such thing, he said, as what should be;
for if there were, we’d all just waste our time
imagining how other folks should live,
instead of working on the here and now.

Is that a fact? she answered, with a laugh;
you may as well propose there is no past.
If that’s the case, we have no one to blame
for where we sit and spin, stuck in this spot.

Indeed, he countered, why do you suppose
we fight so hard when we could just evolve,
and stop this endless fighting with ourselves
that doesn’t lead to anything at all?

21 APR 2025

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