Time

It’s raining hours on my minutes
while I wish it would just shower seconds.

Seconds until night finally takes his rest
and dawn beckons the inauguration of a new day

Where time ceases to be my foe
and becomes my friend,

Abetting my restless spirit
to find solace in polite conversation,
uninhibited wit and an affable face.

It’s raining hours on my minutes
while I wish it would just shower seconds.

Much unlike my biological clock – tick tock
this time moves at its own leisurely pace
keeping me from that face and that smile.

The one that makes me want to sit for a while
or maybe get lost at sea
and ride bareback on a wave to safety
soaked in hope and unrequited love.

It’s raining hours on my minutes
while I wish it would just shower seconds.

Seconds until, using words in place of feet
we haphazardly dance across the keyboard.

Fingers instead of hands guide our way
and make addictive music

Of the tapping, inconsistent kind.
the coveted yet unique kind.

Stop.

Can you hear it?

Time’s playing our song.
©Assumpta Ozua 2008

———-

A poem from the archives accompanied by a photograph taken back in July when the sun still felt like blessing us.