Seasons of Time

Anyway the world moves,
But it’s only the one way.
There is no past here
To cling to as the world turns
Its old face to face
Into the unknown future.

While we are stuck here
Only in the still moment,
Waiting for something
To happen. Something always
Will happen around
Each turn of this turning world

While every turning
Is a blind turning towards.
While we stand and wait
Only stillness remains here
At the still centre
As life moves on around us.

We used to be there,
Out where the changes are made,
But here we remain
Where there is nothing and where
There is everything.
That keeps us rooted and still.

Our times are past times.
Now all our seasons are gone,
Lost seasons of time.
How can we shape these moments
We hold and turn slow
To catch the light and keep it?

Here, it can be seen.
It can be taken from here
And it can move on.
All these days and all these times.
We move on from now
Out into the day and on.

Out beyond the night.
It grows, turns and fills the sky.
But here you stand now,
With ripped paper all around
Your bare feet, naked,
Naked and holding a bright
Flower to your nose
As you remember those times

Long ago, back when
It seemed it could all be yours.
When it just seemed you
Only had to lift your hand
To find it brimming
All over with happiness,
And now your hand is empty.