Wednesday, February 21, 2018

If I have time

Evil, it seems to me, is an acute form of ignorance.

If I have time to be angry, then I must also have time to love.

And if I love, I have no time to be angry.

And time itself is an illusion.

Will these words reach you before we are gone?

Will they reach anyone?

What can that matter, if we love?


Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

Your poem reminded me of this one:


Time once measured
by sun and moon
and the balance of the days,
the slipping of each
from dark to dark,
keeping all in order,

now measured by fleet
seconds and hours,
the ticking of the clock,
moving ever faster between
full and final quarter,
need and obligation,
as we slip from sparse
to stark.

From: Tall Grass & High Waves, 2009

William Michaelian said...

I’m glad it did. Perfect.

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

Mine, I know, is a little darker, so let's call it Yin and Yang. 😊