Time plays a master game with us.
It spins the past tight then lose,
Tangles us in weaves of woolly memory,
Spurs wild boasts and creativity;
It affords many bright horizons
Travelers imagine can be achieved.
Time offers drama and humor for hungry minds to engage,
Begs us explore the twists of fortune and fate.
The master game has subtle moves,
forward and back, of memories soured
By business unfinished,
And actors wishing things had gone better,
To dreams dreamt in technicolor,
Caught in heady desire, longing for
A soldier’s return,
A lover’s win,
A gambler’s all in,
Expecting to live out the narrative.
A mortal fantasy fleshed out,
real and sweet,
A happy reverie.
A master game designed for eternity,
advertising little pleasures,
And rewards to be received,
While guarding the undisclosed truth, How travel comes to an end.
THH
2/13/24
Thoughts Have Hands 