The moving faces

Oh my child, I see you smile
Looking back on the calendar pages,
I see your wisdom, aura of greatness
Working within you like the sages

Oh my child, rushing through
While life still flows the same as before,
I see your hunger, strong desires
Trying to break that immovable door

The clock, the hourglass, the moving faces
Am sure they see and shall agree,
That my little child has grown too fast
In desperate movements to be so free

Oh my child, how you stumble
These many years were so unkind,
Yet I beg thee to tarry a while
Before you leave your shadow behind

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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