Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Time will Tell

I never heard Time speak.
She holds her cloak around her secrets.

Sometimes, though, she lays her picnic blanket
On the ground,
But I provide the food
As do those who might pass by.

I never heard Time singing
Though the trees she nurtures, who contain her presence
Hold the birds who sing.

They sense that love is in the branches
And that All Around
Came once from One Whole Good,
Which they rejoice in.

I never heard Time sigh
But as events and people peer from billboards
Tabloids, postcards, windows,
Anguished faces, shouts of joy
I bring a lover’s eye
To every sight
And seek the Lover’s glance
in all the Guernica* and jubilee.

I never heard Time speak.
Her silence, though, invites response.
The only guarantee
Perhaps, is that Time listens.
That is telling.

What does she hear
In me?

Sarah de Nordwall 11th August 2005

*Guernica, the most ancient town of the Basques was bombed and destroyed in 1937 by the German airforce. It is the subject of one of the most famous paintings in Modern Art by Pablo Picasso.

1 comment:

  1. A great poem Sarah! I love the line about Time laying her picnic blanket on the ground... and thus begins the invitation to lay our food on it.
    Time won't in fact tell... but time will provide some space.