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Personal Note:

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Poem


Time drips drops of sorrow like engine oil. 
It coats the gears of yesterday's labor, 
keeping grinding on forward in a regular way, 
slip, slip sliding away.

Tears unbind the spindle of memory’s wheel. 
Dreams, frozen in candle wax, melt in the sun’s heat, 
causing memories to slink and drip, 
slip, slip sliding away.

Hands clutch hard, trying to hold on
to what we fought for, and believed. 
But hands wet with sweat 
lose their grip, falter in the struggle, 
slip, slip sliding away.

The scent of love stops us from letting go, 
when we bask in its inner comfortable glow. 
But a looser chain makes love feel fresh again, 
slip, slip sliding away.

The soul can be numbed by slow decay, 
yielding ground and letting beliefs drift. 
But pushing back hard can reverse the fall, 
slip, slip sliding away.

Truth doesn’t cling or shout. 
It waits patiently on the sidelines. 
It’s often misjudges when viewed straight on, 
so it bends, curves, and evades. We go right past it, 
slip, slip sliding away.

What remains when we try to 
grasp and hold on to everything at once, 
is a lottery we can't control, risking the precious, 
slip, slip sliding away.

When a purpose is set, and we draw near, 
we often lose traction, and step backwards. 
The nearer you get to your destination, the more you’re 
slip, slip sliding away.

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