After After
After after, there is
always more, another
after and another
sewn together, leaving
like the train trailing
behind the bride’s
wedding gown and
dragging across carpet,
then tile, pavement,
and grass and eventually,
car upholstery.
Childhood trains us
to expect the great ocean
of time around us,
endless, and always more
of it rolling in and away.
A couple of decades
in, and we know scarcity,
know that birthdays
grow stronger and faster,
are tireless sprinters
who find us and lap us.
There will always be
another and a next
and an after, even if we
are unable to know about it.
Love your perspective. I must interject, though, that those in our world that were made aware, 'childhood training', of the 'great ocean of time' and the speed of time that passes and leaves us behind, are less than the majority. Many of us didn't recognize our integral place in this universe until later in age. Some of us still non-cognizant.
ReplyDeleteOtherwise, like always, I love your depth of expression in a mellifluous way.
Love it...I was thinking this morning as I was reviewing the birthdays this month, and thinking when was it when it started to go faster... how is after 35? : )
ReplyDeleteThere's a wonderful series about time; one episode deals with the belief that time doesn't exist at all. Another addresses the belief (with science to back it up) that the time that used to exist is not the kind of time that exists now. It's fascinating to think about.
ReplyDeleteI love how you've likened "after" to a wedding gown's train and what follows on marriage, children, and birthdays. After, another, a next: we immortalize those in our memory.
this is so true...
ReplyDeleteAfter, after. That is what this life is all about, isn't it? But where is it? What is it? Poetry. Bravo, H.
ReplyDeletegreat, I'll follow your blog.
ReplyDeleteThis is a good a good poem to think of as I sew, one stitch after another. Always another stitch after the last one...
ReplyDelete