The hours carrying over one heart beat
to the next
which only make echoes of now and forever.
This crude hammer-
ceaseless-does not heal but molds to fit
soundness through all narrow passages
pushing breath aside.
This welcome breeze washes over
hot cheeks
with smile,
injecting light
where darkness filled up silence with stories.
There was once a time
when it was easier said than done.
Flutters and leap seconds could be folded
and kept muffled
in between a steady place
and were bound by revolutions
mistaken for revelations.
Now, as predicted
none looked further than necessary
and overall, it was universally agreed,
inevitably
the shifting weight
would crush us completely
while the drum rolls on.
Painting by Arthur Hughes [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
