Holding Back Time

Written by James Record in 2014.

The dam of denial,
Can only hold back the stream of time,
For a finite span of time,
Before the pressure of the water,
Unescapably breaks through the futile barrier,
Causing an incredible volume of water,
To come crashing down,
Destroying everything you have built and achieved.

Time cannot go back up stream,
The canoes will be forced over the tremendous waterfalls.
Trying to climb back up will only repeat,
The broken bones and broken hearts.
It is much better to follow the course,
Over every drop,
Around every bend,
And through every obstacle.

Que Sera Sera.

The silt laden rivers spill over their banks.
The cycles of life cannot be interrupted forever.
Every year the floods will come,
And it is for us to recognise the signs of change,
And be prepared for when it comes.
You cannot stand up against the power of nature,
And expect to survive her vengeful wrath.
You do not have the keys to lock away the keeper of time,
Trying will only make the inevitable hurt more.

Que Sera Sera.

The waters are murky,
And so they should be,
Why would the great architect of time,
Want you to be able to see what is coming?

The course is set,
Albeit with a few branches and forks along the way.
We can choose where we end up,
But for much of our journeys,
We will still follow the same path.
There is no final destination,
We will find out along the way.
The decisions we make must be made carefully,
And must be made timely,
Otherwise the powerful current of the river of time,
Will carve a path through solid rock for us.
We can stall for time, but we will always be moving forwards.
Make your choices wisely, but swiftly,
As there will be no going back.
We cannot complain where we wind up,
If we don’t plan our futures.

Que Sera Sera.

Creative Commons Licence
Holding Back Time by James Record is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

Frozen Angels

Written by James Record in 2014.

Angels sleep silently in a frozen world,
Watching over their creators,
Ensuring the seasonal happiness continues,
And protect the defenceless.

The spirits live among fallen ice.
Their very existence is dependant,
On the weather and the sun.
Some are hidden beneath dark bleak shadows,
While others melt away with the glaring daylight.

Wings spread for all to see,
Gliding motionlessly through a night-time sky,
Watching the stars pass overhead,
Against a cloudless backdrop.

Even perfect angles perish eventually.
The lucky ones are returned to water,
And re-enter the cycle of life.
Unlucky ones are crushed by rowdy children,
And steel beasts which tear them to pieces,
With their rubber feet.

The freezing rain begins again,
Filling in our hollow moulds with fresh slush,
Watering down our ghostly silhouettes,
And sending chills to our backs.

Who said hell had to be a fiery sentence?
A tomb of ice with no ability to move your limbs,
Would be a far worse fate.
Fear of the requirement to stare eternally,
At the same point in space for all of time,
With only thought and reflection,
To occupy your useless body.
With only a thousand million snow drops,
To give you company.

This all matters not for those,
Made of that which falls from the heavens.
The children and their parents are content,
And therefore so must those who sleep a silent dream,
Lasting through a cold winter’s night.

Creative Commons Licence
Frozen Angels by James Record is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.