The Clocks Have All Stopped
Penni Livingston
Time doesn’t know where to go.
Rains and Tides still ebb and flow.
Plants defiantly spring up and grow.
People still think of more to know.
The world Conceived is swiftly careening.
Crash landing consistent with one’s own leaning.
Perception outwits are highest gleaning.
Each Soul struggling to find universal meaning.
Insincere efforts dry the sun to run cold.
Ignoring the virtues we ought to extol.
The truths we slink to think to cajole.
Attempts to gain circumstantial control.
No epochs to study the evidence mounting.
Those right seem deaf to logic’s sounding.
Those left to witness earth’s sorrowful drowning.
Narrow is that pilgrim path, a needed new founding.
Redistribution of resources and wealth
Will do more to restore happiness and health.
As seas rise from glacial hearts’ now melt,
Forces conspire to bulge humanity’s belt.
Without con-struct we shall have no new lore,
Whatever the weather may have in store.
Remembering Love as our central core,
We knock on every closed door.
Whatever the reasons, whatever the rhyme,
Whatever the measures, we are asked to climb,
Painting music pressures us to find lost time,
We must shift the reality we make in our mind.
