Father Farther

Years are man's measure
to order we must align
they post signs
along roads which infiltrate our minds
you clutch to the comfort of these measurements
and count the days
as though you can hold on to them
but they are gone from you and me now
I might be a memory
of a baby in arms
a child quickly running
stumbling away from you
life was so full and you had so much to do
thirty years have come between us
and man plows the Earth
year in and year out
the soil is turned
the drones now fly and kill
the screen blinks on and the wheels are turning faster
across a world made of metaphors
we grapple for a connection
and the truth is a silent hollow vacuum
filled by our intentions

About binaryLady

Front-End Wiz and Full stack developer

One comment

  1. Bjorn Cook

    Did yesterday happen? – perhaps…. I cannot tell.
    I cannot hold yesterday – or touch it – the memories of days past are only fiction played in my mind – and perhaps not true?
    Tomorrow does not exist – yet… if it will…
    Today – here and now – this instant is all we have with certainty – then gone…

    In this instant, memories of what we do not have – or claim lost
    are shadows played behind reality’s screen
    We believe in their existence – we must – as they truly are all we have
    as companions to the solitary self as we sail our life’s lonely voyage

    Time is minds fiction – fickle and dishonest – tells of losses of what once was – lies….. to uphold the charade of life without beginning – and end.
    Against the slavery of time, reality is what we are now – you and I this instant – not aeons back in the minds past. Here, this instant in time we stand, where we can create at will – what our souls desire – against the tyranny of our consciousness.

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