The cane

Philosophy, experience, and hope

After a while
Time loses importance
Or perhaps it's passing
Frightens me less
Changing from a time
Of becoming
To A time of being

A white haired man
Leans heavily for support
On a cane
Gnarled and strong
It yields only slightly
Under his full weight
Bending, not breaking
Or slipping

His staff of power
Arrived in a flash
Delivered by
Lightening.
Still smoking
It fell at his feet
With a peal
Of Thunder

It shows the marks
Of time passing,
A faded burn
Its edges
Worn by his fingers
And the influence of events
Beyond his control.
It is timeless
A steady base
To lean upon




D. Moarzjasac