2 - Sonnet On Time

Is time a spiral stairway that we climb Whose unendingness we seek to borrow To the last wrought syllable of our rhyme Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow - The fusion of the future with the past In dizzying dimensions ever new Which hurl us headlong in a void so vast That what we view as false appears as true? We must peer through bars forever blocking Upon the threshold of our promised land - At the gates of eternity knocking - Outside we stand - albeit hand in hand. Through the rush of time we’re ceaselessly swirled. How heartless is the transience of this world! – Harley White < October 7, 1999 >