Cycle

There's no secret but to wait.

Till the sand-dial settles grain by grain,
And is turned up upside down to
Do it all over again.

Drop by drop, the lake fills itself
And dries up to repeat the process.
Time is a sculptor in pursuit of an
Angel stuck in a rock.

Time is a musician trying to hear
His own patience for a serendipitous life.
So the way forward is always wearing
Tearing and rebuilding again.

Time is a ruthless, unbiased invader.
Painful for someone and a pleasure
For someone else and within a
Short while it'll reverse the roles again.

Like tearing down a mountain into
A plain somewhere and elsewhere
Gets beneath a valley to
Punch it up again.

Time fancies a rollercoaster ride,
The repeated ebbs and flows in
The fabric of space, screaming births
And deaths like bursting balloons

In a birthday party of a kid.