Time Poetry Contest--Gears of Seasons
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(“Desert Ruins” Image courtesy of www.artstation.com)
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The twilight paints a purple, starry bruise
where time and trees hold their eternal truce.
One ageless oak, with roots both gnarled and deep
commands the night, its shadowed heart asleep.
It’s boughs like clocks, and gears within its core
mark rhythms slow where seasons fade and soar.
Below, a river winds of gleaming sand,
an hourglass undone by nature’s hand.
And figures formed of starlight, frail and thin,
rise from the grains, their silent pleas begin.
The golden motes, like breaths within the air,
dance ‘round the ruins, laid so stark and bare.
Reminders of a world that turned to dust,
while time, relentless, makes its steady thrust.
The leaves like whispers tell of empires gone
while through the ages, life and change roll on.
Though empires rise and stars begin to fade,
the ancient heart of earth will still be made.
With gears of seasons, sand like hours spent,
time, nature’s grand design, a life unbent.
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2024
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