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May 2010
In every life there comes a moment
Poised between what was and what may be -
A pause in which our lives draw to a silence profound
As everything freezes
And there, on a pinnacle waiting
We cannot tell if our world
Is about to come apart and fall
Into that dark oblivion of sleepless night
Or if it is drawing together
To take anew some form
As of yet unseen.

The past is gone and beyond our reach
The future is unknown and beyond our control
The present only do we have and yet
This too seems to lurch as if with a mind of its own
And we, helpless to effect it, must stand
Silent and breathless
As the gyre of desolation spins wildly
And the pieces of our lives are drawn
Into its vortex
And slowly swept away
Beyond our grasp.

We are left, forlorn and forsaken
And if that gyre should widen enough
Then we too might cease and know no more
Lost in the blackness between what we hoped
And what we found
As uncaring, the Universe looks upon us
As nothing more than a fragment
No longer needed for some greater purpose
And now discarded, our part played out.

And if perchance there had been some moment
When a better choice we might have made
That moment is lost and we must hope
If even hope we still might have
That some benevolent hand might yet,
Seeing our plight, ****** us up
And save us from this final fate
Lest this spirit end its journey
Making way for the next to begin.
Copyright March 10, 2001
Written by
Timothy Emil Birch
706
 
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