As the Arrow Flies
|The child wishes to grow and
live and breathe living happy under the sun. And the old man peers into the
mirror, puzzled at what hes become. While
hopes and dreams and fantasies all, dance before our eyes.
As time keeps sweeping us onward, we are performers under the sky.
We look back to where weve been and then imagine where well be. We reconcile our hopes, dreams and wanderings with a yearning to be free. But yearnings can be tricky. Who knows what they will bring? And hopes and dreams are capricious agents of various broken things.
The child marks time by growing, as he travels along his arrow of time. And old men mark time by dying, a little bit at a time. And those in the middle watch all of this, uncertain at their fate, Grabbing straws as they make their way, expressing love but also hate.