Time - Framed

Twelve chimes mark the end of day

and the beginning of the next.

Although Man’s own construct

Time seems almost mystical

measuring our days as we move

from past through present

to future.

How many days will we own?

One or nine hundred,

or twenty-five thousand -

our three score and ten.

In our allotted days

life becomes complete –

or at least completed.

We waste our minutes

count our hours

measure our months

celebrate our years.

And yet they do not exist in reality

but only in our minds.

We did not need them in the forests

nor in the caves.

But as we hunted and gathered

we became aware of seasons

and named them, giving them magic

framing the cycles of life

of planting, growth and harvest

binding them to us

in ritual and celebration.

And so we created Time -

to measure the seasons

to plan our toil and our rest

to measure our lives

to provide meaning and certainty.

Now, Time is a number

measurable beyond the change

from season to season

or from night to day.

Time is hours, minutes and seconds

nanoseconds

timetables and calendars

Time is money

Time marches on.

The tool has become the master;

our creation has become a tyrant.

We don’t have time

Time waits for no man

Time’s up.

Perhaps we should take

Time out.

© Linda Visman

9^th January 2008

After hearing the clock strike midnight.