fragile echoes of dreams, long faded—
now we gamble with house money
in a game whose rules dissolve as we play,
the stakes as fleeting as the memory of their purpose.
spun from threads of smoke and of silk,
on a stage where the actors struggle,
unaware they were cast before their first breath.
waging hollow battles with invisible hands,
while time—our only true enemy—
wears us smooth, relentless as waves on stone.
the subtle push and pull of life
undoes you, then reshapes you,
chiseling rough edges into quiet grace.
etches away the excess,
revealing not a caricature,
but the essence of who it is you always were—
unfinished, yet becoming,
each fragment a truth,
each longing a step closer
to an infinite elsewhere.
Be well and make the most of this day.
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Poetry should move us, it should change us, it should glitch our brains, shift our moods to another frequency. Poetry should evoke feelings of melancholy, whimsy, it should remind us what it feels like to be in love, or cause us to think about something in a completely different way. I view poetry, and all art really, as a temporary and fragile bridge between our world and a more pure and refined one. This is a world we could bring into creation if enough of us believed in it. This book is ephemera, destined to end up forgotten, lingering on some dusty shelf or tucked away in a dark attic. Yet the words, they will live on in memory. I hope these words become a part of you, bubble up into your memory when you least expect them to and make you feel a little more alive.
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I like the idea that even though we may have a lot of time behind us we are still "becoming". That's really powerful.
I think it's so important to remember as we get older that we can always better ourselves.
That's very true. I'm a firm believer in the fact that Powers higher than ourselves control our actions. We are actors on the stage that is the world and these Powers have pre-planned how our lives would go even before we were born. It's a gloomy realisation, yet we must try to always stay in control of our lives as best as we can. Thanks for this fine poem.
I'm of the opinion that our path was preordained before birth (maybe we even chose it) but we also have free will to make decisions and even deviate from that chosen path if we wish. Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
From the title, the poem says! We are unfinished beings who are made as we live. Is time our worst enemy? Yes, I think so. Surely if we had more time, we could live longer and make more mistakes. That last stanza stops me in the fact that time is the great sculptor!!! Beautiful image. Time has sculpted our body, our face, but also our spirit. Many hugs, Eric!
Thank you Nancy. Yes, time is the great deceiver, and I think that's why it's so dangerous. We think we have forever. When we come to understand our true mortality is when we're born the second time and each moment becomes more precious. I hope you're having a great week! It's barely above zero here but the sun is shining so that makes a difference. : )
How are you dear friend @ericvancewalton good afternoon
I always admire your compositions, your way of writing is enviable
Have a beautiful afternoon
The week is going well on this end, I hope it is for you too! Thanks!
This is soul release. Just Beautiful.
What you say is absolutely right. Time is sometimes the enemy if we cannot manage time. Thank you for your beautiful poetry. Have anice day, Eric.
Thanks for reading Eliana! : )
Good poem to read, amazing 😍😍😍😍
Time a tireless sculptor
It chisels us into becoming the persons we are now.
That was a beautiful poem, teaching us great lessons about time and life. Good day
Thank you! I hope you've been well!
A good literature piece. So emotional and educative. As if you are teaching us about life and experiences that keep transforming us into the persons we finally become
#hive #posh