Vignettes of Time II: Still Spring After All These Years

It's like looking up from deep thought
or an engrossing book and not knowing
what time it is -
strange that night crept up quietly,
how did I read without light?

And in an escape, we left for a trip into
the mountains of Costa Rica
to explore nature and experience life -
I once awoke to the sound of rain,
peered toward the ocean,

and wondered what day it was -
yet in an instant, we had gone.

How fragile our time
and arbitrary our perception of it,
a future separated by finite instances
like Neptunian spring in its twelfth year,
capitulated into the belief that summer
is obstructed by decades of suddenly-missed instances
stretched indefinitely through memory.

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