The Time Has Come

The time has come the poem said
for you to write that I might be read
and so I took my pen in hand
and wrote the words at its command.
The words spewed forth as I obeyed
The poem wanted its glory displayed.
It shimmered, it glowed, it shone with delight
it showed off its power as I brought it to light.
The words began running and singing and dancing,
and then quite and sorrowful and then into romancing.
Up one side, cross over, now run over there,
I wait and then....
Now quickly, now slowly, now gently, more care.
Swiftly they tumble, they rush and they pour,
then suddenly they stop. I hear them no more.
Where do they come from and where do they go?
Alas it's unfortunate I really don't know.
If I knew, I could coax them to come out and play
when I chose, instead of awaiting their stay.
But life is just like that, it ebbs and it flows,
like words of this poem, it comes and it goes.
We know not our journey, its only begun,
we just step out there gently and walk towards the sun.
And slowly or quickly our journey is o'r
and just like this poem - there is no more!