On time

A Poem by Lawerence Rowe

Personal notes on time.

The wings of time beat so lightly that no man may hear them, but their presence is known none-the-less. The ticking of seconds is silenced by the loud beating of our hearts. So enamored with life's overtones that we dare not stop to take in a moment, to see a moment. Life is infused with events covering multitudes of time, but time marches on, undaunted.

The seconds, minutes, hours I wait for you to see me, to know me, are as fleeting as the beats of a hummingbirds wings. To me time means nothing. I wait in patient silence.