Sunday, August 1, 2010

Till the End of Time


'Does the road wind uphill all the way?'
The voice of the speaker is rasping;
'How long? How long?' he tries to say,
But his breaths are short and gasping.
'Yes, up-hill all the way to the skies,
For ever and ever as well.
Before you, see the mountain rise!
Sisyphus, you are in Hell!
The gods will not be derided!
You tricked us and that will not do!
Your punishment has been decided!
Every day you will suffer anew!
See this boulder, perched just a bit higher!
You must push it away as you climb!
If not, then your fate will be dire!
You must push till the ending of time!
'Does the road wind up-hill all the way?'
'Yes! And this is your Judgement Day!'


(Written at that age.)

I see the future as a time apart,
A little room
In which I am old,
And all else is old with me.
Yet there is a barrier
Between what is
And what is to come,
When I am old.
There is a door
Into that dusty, plush room.
Tomorrow will be the mirror
Of today.
Yet, inevitably,
I shall find the door
To the stale smell
And the moth-eaten rug.
Yesterday I stood amazed in the garden,
With the dragonflies and the fresh green grass.
When did I come into the house?
Two doors.
One leads back into the sunshine.
The other one leads to the darkened room.
And I cannot turn back.


Stan Ski said...

The only way is up.

Whitesnake said...

Such talent....Such wisdom....

Robert Lloyd said...

Brenda I alwys enjoy reading your work. This one had me envisioning some harsh things. Great work with the imagery. Thank you for sharing.