The Measure of Time (a poem)

Every year, I become intrigued by the concept of a “new” year, of a calendar that we as humans have imposed on nature, on the ongoing circling of planets and stars. Where is the beginning and end in a circle?

Questions are the source of just about all my writing. So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that that it has become a tradition for me to write a new year’s poem. Here’s this year’s:
A minute, an hour, a day.
What is the measure of time?
A child dances with sunlight
A pas de deux that seems to last forever.
An old woman reaches back to first love,
A blink ago.
An hour, a day, a week.
The fragrance of a lilac
Or of a love’s breath
Escapes memory’s grasp
So that only the aura remains,
Fleeting ephemera.
A day, a week, a month.
Time is a bead of mercury
Slipping from my grasp.
Just the act of reaching to hold it
Sends it scurrying away from me,
Gone, unrecoverable.
A week, a month, a year.
The calendar tears off another page.
Yet the earth does not pause
In its journey round the sun.
We shout, “Stop! Let us pause,
Remember, reflect.”
A month, a year, a lifetime.
We measure the immeasurable,
Impose dates, hours, meaning on infinity.
Yet a smile reaches through the ether,
Caresses my heart and lifts my soul,
Beyond time.
A year, a lifetime, a moment.
No calendar with years that end,
No clock ticking away the days.
Only you, me, us, reaching for connection,
Finding ourselves within each other.
Wonder. Peace.

If you’re curious, here are a few of my other new year’s poems.
Wishing you a new year filled with human connections. Best, Sally

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