Poetry

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A Constant Force


Passing in the still of the night,
without a whisper or a sound,
disappearing in the sunlight,
mysterious yet ever so profound.

It is how we all plan each day,
from the morning into the dark,
without it we would lose our way,
in society it truly leaves a mark.

Passing with a constant flow,
as the days turn into weeks,
it never seems to run slow,
or fast never hitting the peaks.

The truth to the mystery is bold,
captivating both body and soul,
affecting the young and the old,
in the end it always takes its toll.

Start to finish, always there,
cycling though one’s mind,
from, no one knows where,
the simple complexity of time.


Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2007, All Audiences

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