Time

I woke this morning
to that cool vapor of breath
that blankets the earth in grey.
It was dreary, made me sleepy,
But the sun rose.
And everything seemed perfect.
I washed the same, brushed my teeth.
Full and clothed, it felt all right.
It felt so normal and average.
Like the hundreds of days before.
 
So casually I went to my jar.
I dip in it every day, complain of it being
Too much
Too long
Too slow.
But this day I gasped.
Something had happened to me.
I was the victim of theft.
I had been robbed, robbed was me.
And my mouth went dry, knees shook.
The hollowness of fear swelled within.
It feasted on every cell.
As this most tragic discovery
Sucked oxygen from the room
I thought of who to blame for this.
Something had to be done soon.
 
There were only a few grains left.
Much like an hourglass on fifty-nine.
And you know in one more minute
You’ll lose your entire mind.
See peace went away—driven.
Security—discouraged—was gone.
They left me with a hole and two tomorrows.
A choice that stood ticking.
 
Who was to blame but the fates?
Oh what for?
For being who they should be?
For doing their duty?
Sunrise and sunset they shouted back,
“Look at you!”
 
Okay, so maybe it was me.
Feeble, naïve, too carefree.
Always knowing, knowing nothing.
Trapped in a cube filled with “me’s”.
And voices and choices and dying time.
Hourglass breaking so I couldn’t keep track.
And hands that circled endlessly.
I complained of too much
Too long
Too slow
Just go.
But no, not now.
 
This day I’d been robbed
when I saw through my tears
the long gone years.
The remaining, uncertain future.
Now I complain of
Too little
Too fast
Too late.
Insufficient length.
 
So then there was me
Staring in the jar.
I felt like a city in a ruin.
I felt I’d witnessed a crime
Call the police!
Except everyone already knew it.
Everyone but me.
I cared to be free
Not lost.
 
So love the seconds of the day.
Love the lagging and the swift.
Let the “I will’s” be “I done’s”
And don’t choke yourself on guilt.
On how it felt.
On next week.
Cause you live in this thing
Called a Now.
That was a Future
That is a Past.
And the morning it all came clear.
Time spoke into my ear.
Or maybe someone, greater than us all.
 
In my left hand was a hole.
In my right was a badge of hope.
In the jar lay two tomorrows,
And a choice to make it right.