Time trickles through us, <br />through and through us... <br /> <br />born and reborn, I am borne <br />on the bloodrush of fear, <br />flowing of sweat, upwards, <br />borne up the tall, winding, <br />tilting staircase of years. <br /> <br />Time trickles through us, <br />through and through us... <br /> <br />precarious, stilted, <br />rounding the corner... <br />up through the helix <br />spiral of years <br /> <br />to where we are bound <br />where all will be stalled <br />where the trickle is stemmed <br />though the years of ascent <br />seem so far to extend. <br /> <br />Time trickles through us, <br />through and through us... <br /> <br />The pulse of the veins, <br />the drain of the fluids <br />that course and make way <br />through the brain... <br /> <br />the throb that ignites me, <br />will take me to heights, <br />and to depths... <br />and I try in my frailty <br />to harness the time, <br />to make time a friend but <br /> <br />time trickles through us, <br />through and through us... <br /> <br />failing and aging, the body must die... <br />Time is our master, and though we insist <br />that love will transcend all, that death will not end all, <br />still my heart says only Time will persist.<br /><br />Janice Windle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ups-and-downs-collection-time-is-the-master/
