Time is a hummingbird, <br />building its nest, laying its eggs, <br />dipping its beak into flowery deeps; <br />a shimmering prayer, hovering in the air. <br /> <br />Time is a snake, <br />sliding over the sand, laying its eggs, <br />and in some fog-filled fen, <br />stalking its prey; a writhing dare <br />slithering into its lair. <br /> <br />But eternity is a lizard, <br />perched on a rock, <br />that is old and hard and black - <br />a four-legged peon, <br />Time's escort through endless eons. <br /> <br />In an infinitude of sand, <br />I wondered, could I touch it? <br />Would it care? <br />Gently I stretched out my trembling hand. <br /> <br />But the lizard vanished, <br />into the silent land. <br />He was gone. Yet, had I almost <br />touched the flat, dry living hide, <br />of the stuff of forever?<br /><br />Mary Naylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-scales-and-tails-feathers-and-pebbles-and-end/
