Two poems written in 2018 as a preface to my book Movement. Your child's first language. Their relevance seems to grow with time.
Taking Time
When I slow down
I can smell autumn in the air;
Hear the rustle of fallen leaves underfoot
And feel the dampness in my hair.
When I slow down
I feel like a child again;
Excited, curious, strangely alone
in this magical world
which, in this moment,
is all mine.
I could be the only person on the planet
in this vast space,
this world of colour,
floating, free.
In a minute, in an hour, tomorrow
it will all be gone
never to be the same again;
like the sun setting in the evening sky,
light on the water reflecting rustic hues as they are now.
In this moment, this now,
I and the world are at one.
I am, and I am complete.
Killing Time
I cannot hear the words of my lover
As he calls to speak to me.
His words drowned by the sounds of traffic,
of sirens and people, people everywhere.
A colony of human ants,
swerving at the last moment to avoid contact.
Neither touching, nor speaking
Not looking anyone in the eye.
Ears plugged, phone in hand,
talking into an invisible space
occluding the world outside.
No time to see what lies between,
cocooned in a bespoke world of their own.
Time and space their enemy,
to be controlled, overcome or contained.
Time accelerated the faster they go.
Digital people who have become the unwitting slaves of time.
Life lived in the fast lane,
exciting, cool, important and so, so busy.
Keeping up, staying ahead
Speculating on what is coming next.
And yet, the folly of time is
that the news of today will be of no use tomorrow.
It matters only now.
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