Time

Time

Time winds its way
across the mind
leaving footprints
to remember by.

It moves unaided
to unknown futures,
one for each of us
even when not here.

To look back is
once upon a time,
just a fuzzy trail
dustier with age.

Then comes the
eternal dark.
Even for that
it marches on.
It then becomes
the conscious river
in which those
that follow swim.

Neither felt or seen  
as silent as the wind
it sweeps the floors
of an ever universe.

No beginning, no end,
just an always been,
coming from nowhere
and nowhere to go.

Unfathomable ocean,
event stacked on event
of relative objects that
float in finite space.

John Mullinax Oct. 2009