Thursday was any other day filled with appointments and deadlines. Why is it when I have entirely too much to do, Mantra decides to sing and block out the sounds of the mundane things (like ambulance sirens)? After this one was on paper, the irritation ebbed.
Once I read through what made it to the paper, I had to laugh: Introspection at the hands of a fairy.
As you read Hurry, think about the things which make you scurry. What is it which makes you rush around and accomplish at half-accuracy those things which years ago you would have mastered in moments?
When did they appear?
And whence do they spring?
Can we stem the tide?
Make them all disappear?
Piles of things strewn around,
Lists to do and things to get.
Jobs yesterday accomplished
At the end of this day undone.
It moves faster now than before,
Measured in page turns
Rather than the old ticks,
Always a loss in the eternal score.
Remember when minutes were enough
To skate through the piles
Obliterating tasks, buying needs?
When did those things become tough?
We’d fly by deadlines, projects ahead,
Slap together products, no directions.
Now, the lines pass by just as fast,
Not the projects, but we who are dead.
What thief in the night stole Chronos blind?
Who emptied the hourglass
Of its measuring sand?
It’s a crime exceedingly unkind.
Did we do this injustice?
Making the calendar so heavy
We can’t tote it to meetings
Or cart it beyond our avarice ?
Wanting to do and to have it all
We’ve laden our minutes, hours and days
With tasks great and impeccably small.
In the end, lack of time is our downfall.
Time moves faster as we get older.
How true is this statement? What makes it true? How do we slow it down?
© Red Dwyer 2012
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