Distractions in Infinity — A Sonnet
I do not dwell on time; but time on me
Imposes thought that distracts meditation,
With chiding memories of what can not be,
A man derided by his own creation.
While high above infinity’s endless ocean
Where, from temporal realms, no echo rings,
The angel of existence orders motion
And time is but the beating of her wings.
She flies along the shoreline of mortality
Where waves of life break ever on the beaches,
Her touch imbues the living with vitality,
Her shadow is the threshold of death’s reaches.
Her flight is clearly audible in the clock:
Those silent booms between the tick and tock.