Going the Distance
―
GOING THE DISTANCE
Death comes to us all,
even if its when, where, how
but as hands on a clock
inviting us to rustle up good times,
and serve them to Memory,
always up for any leftovers
from a favourite dish created
with loving hands, saying more
than any words
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
hands of an alarm clock usually
moving too fast for us
even as we relax in each other’s arms
after making time for love
before the work ethic demands
we answer its call,
steer a course as best we can
to its shores
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
hands of cloud clocks inviting us
to run races we cannot win,
but can still have fun for earning a
place
in the eternal role call
of winners, losers and also-rans
reeled off by commentators
making love to their microphones
in soundproof boxes
Life embraces us all,
though we appear to be caught up
in the when-and-why
of various notches on multiple clock
faces
forever winding us up
and defying us to get the better
of time, feed a consciousness
eager for any leftovers from dishes
created with loving hands
[London: August 5th 2011]
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011, 2019
Labels: condition, consciousness, creative therapy, death, human, life, memories, mind-body-spirit, nature, personal, poetry, positive thinking, posthumous, prostate cancer, space, spirit, time
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