A Battle of Time

The battle of Time

By Rendo 11/16/02

I couldn’t sleep the other night.

My doctor gave me a medicine

That kept me strung out.

I found myself,

Walking the road

At four-thirty in the morning.

My surroundings were

Dark and gloomy.

Half dead.

Like me.

There was no chirping of birds,

Or cracking of twigs by deer

that move about the woods

Seeking warmer bedding.

The only sounds were from my sneakers,

kicking the newly fallen leaves.

By the time

I arrived at Parker Pond,

My surroundings were taking on a different color.

The pre-dawn light,

Offered me blues and grays.

I could almost see the opposite shoreline.

The warm water,

Had lost it summer’s guests.

The naked bathers.

have donned their city clothes

And headed home.

The pond is still and quiet.

No longer will it to be cut

by the blades of motorboat engines,

or be forced to drink a gasoline.

.

Now, its only enemy was the cold air

Filtering in from the north.

A more familiar foe,

Arriving on time.

As the water and air begin to spar,

gray wisps of fog rise

Into the surrounding air.

Giving it the appearance of ghostly spirits’

Rising from some prolonged battle.

They seek heaven,

And travel south.

“There is no color here.”

I whispered.

(a bluer tint,now, maybe.)

But wait!

The sun has not yet shown its face!

Hidden behind this illusion

Stands a forest of colored leaves,

Which even now,

Are still falling to the ground!

Look, There!

A beaver is breaking the two armies apart

As she glides towards her nest,

beyond those water lilies!.

Listen!

I hear a loon!

She is crying for her mate,

Once hidden, by the smoke of battle.

He answers her with a promise,

that the sun will be rising soon.

Overhead, geese fly south.

Their chatter warns all who care to listen,

That the seasons are changing soon,

The passing of another year.

These surroundings fill my soul.

They weave me into its tapestry,

forcing me to look inward.

Parker Pond

Will soon loose its battle

The summer season will make room for the fall.

With the coming of the new season,

I am once again, reminded,

that the seasons of my life

are also passing.

Until I loose my battle,

And my time here

ends.