This poem indicates towards the value of time, most importantly the value of 'now' !


One to Twelve

The hands of the clock,
As they move
One to twelve and then to one,
They sweep our lives as they move,
From one to twelve an then to one.

Yesterday is gone,
No more in our hands,
But as the clock goes round,
Time will come
And our deeds of yesterday
Will bear us fruit today!

Tomorrow is uncertain,
But today we can,
Yes, we surely can,
Preserve our deeds,
For tomorrow’s needs.
For we know that our deeds of today,
Will bear us fruit the other day.

But, time is what we do not have,
As the hands of the clock move,
From one to twelve and then to one.






Poetry by Rai
Read 566 times
Written on 2007-10-04 at 12:11

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Rob Graber
Good reflections on a profound dilemma. If we behave for the immediate future, we court disaster; we instead can shape "our deeds for tomorrow's needs." Yet in the long run, indeed, "time is what we do not have." As individuals, that is; should we not also try to shape our deeds with posterity in mind?

I really like how with line 14 the speaker seems to stretch to convince the reader--and maybe h/rimself--of the efficacy of intentionality, planning, foresight, etc....
2007-10-04