TIME

© Gloria Smith 2010

Time came and went as quickly
As a comet sweeping by in the evening sky
Measured in meteor moments
Flashes of memory, scenes of years
Sounds of tears; flutters of Angels wings
Baby sighs, young men old
And dreams as cold and black as space
And God's eternal grace
My grand old clock slew time
It ticked and chimed
My heart thumped loudly in tune
In time
Life passed by
I waved to it and called to it
But it walked on by
With the merest glance, the slightest wave
It gave as if an afterthought
Time does not go though
It remains and we must leave
While others grieve our passing and yet we live
This energy, this spark of fire, and flame
And soul, and name... our lives exist
And yet expire all in the same moment
We are gone before we arrive and yet alive
Our past to haunt, our future too
And here and now so much to do
And do we know that time best spent
Is sometimes best not spent at all
A nap, a porch, a Catbird's song
A squirrel, a rose, a poem, a son
A meteor in the black velvet of an evening sky
I think I heard an Angel sing
While I lingered half asleep
Clinging to my old lawn chair

LOST

© Gloria Smith 2010

We are lost -- those who love, truly love, without reservation, without thought of reward, and without censorship of society; who follow their hearts no matter the road, no matter the cost.

Love is a fool -- it is blind and strong; as strong as death. It cares not about seasons or circumstance when it comes knocking.

It is born of the spirit and lives in the soul. It is not fettered with bonds of flesh but is born in the body of us all.

Foolish love... mad desire, dark crimson elixir of life -- it beckons us to drink deeply.

We pretend to resist but in the night watches of the heart we cannot but heed its call. Only the flesh is restrained but the mind, the spirit, runs headlong into danger and thrills at the quest.

How sweet the potion. How drunk the spirit, how deep the desire, how insane, how heady... I cannot die to defeat you. I cannot live without you.

Beckon on sweet siren, as you will and as you must. I will lead a revolt against you. I will fight with the sword of my will and I will lose but fight I must and fight I will until my last breath, and then... oh then you will have me at last. At last...

Funeral Blues by WH Auden

Funeral Blues
WH Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Four Weddings and a Funeral - "Funeral Blues"

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

by Mary Frye (1932)

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!