Passing Time - Poem #101

Is this my time or not?

Time flows into a man
makes its home there
then flows away ; the man remains
but his time has passed.

There was a time when the world was mine
and you were mine
and all would last tomorrow and tomorrow
and  I was at my height; then it passed

The man still thinks
breathes and cries
but the time that belonged to him
has moved away.

There is no greater burden for a man
than to live
in a time
which is not his own

for time never loves
the children of the past;
everything flows swiftly and noiselessly
till no time remains.

Just yesterday
you were so sure of yourself;
and now another time has come
as options fade to become commands.

A jolly fiddle or mournful trumpet
plays the tune of life
announcing for some their time has come
and for others, “Your time has passed.”

.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

As time passes by and we grow older and suffer our losses I imagine many will think this way. Losing a partner is devastating, but children too, makes me understand where you are coming from. Much sorrow in these lines and weariness too I detect.

Chris

[toritto]

Hi Again! Most of what I am posting here was written years ago during dark times. One of my daughters lives close by, the other within a mornings drive. I have a comfortable home, a steady income, live close to my three brother in law, nieces and nephews. I am never alone on a holiday or birthday, have a wonderful grandson and want for nothing. I am a contented man who has lived a full and fruitful life. Many thanks and regards.

[Chris Shaw]

It is pleasing to know this is an old poem, written in dark times and that since then you have been able to lead a full and enriched life with family close by. That would make a huge difference. All good wishes.

Chris