There's
No time
Like the present
There is no other time
As those two hands
Push us forward
Never mind
That our heels
Are dug
Into the ground
Trying to
Slow us down
The only time
We have is now
And when we fill it up
It cannot overflow
Into the future
Nor spill back
Into the past
It can only
Get bottled up
And make us bulge
And perhaps explode
When we try
To put in more
Than it will hold
And so with
Jobs and chores
And kids and sleep
The time is filled
Up to its brim
Unless we keep
A bit of room
Before the rim
The bit of foam
At the top
Time to spend
On ourselves
But in the end
It fizzles out
And we go about
Getting a fresh cup
To start a new day
Maybe the cup
Will be bigger
Maybe it will
Hold more
Maybe it will
Fill more
S-l-o-w-l-y
But I think
The cups
Are getting
Smaller
And the
Fill is
Getting
Faster
I've sent your post to my daughter, still working full-time, but due in a couple of weeks with her 2nd child. I stayed home with the kids, & she'll be returning to work; I don't know how she'll do it. Your poem is wonderfully true, especially the analogy of the cup and the tiny (seems like) bit of foam at the top. Changes the perspective of 'my cup runneth over', doesn't it? My summer even seems filled, without the job!
ReplyDeleteThe article sure nailed it on the head, didn't it. Loved your poem also--the last line "But I think the cups are getting smaller and the fill is getting faster". What a lot to think about there---
ReplyDeleteHappy Writing
I love this poem. I feel like i'm constantly digging in my heels in hopes of slowing time down so I can squeeze it all in.
ReplyDeleteI like your perspective and poem about time. I hope that most of the time your cup has the foam at the top.
ReplyDeleteTerje
"the only time we have is now and when we fill it up it cannot overflow into the future" - so wise, so true.
ReplyDeleteYour poem is so true. My time is always caught up in "maybe it will".
ReplyDelete