Time. A poem by Hazel

For fussing over floor marks to be erased
Clearing clutter from the shelves
Unsettling dust from its comfortable abode
There will be time

For sorting ‘that’ kitchen drawer
Or press in the spare room
Or box in the shed
There will be time

For finally removing the scuffs off paintwork in the hall
Tackling those determined weeds in between the patio stones
Fixing the lob sided bird table that is a risk to life and wing
There will be time

To come full circle
And not have the energy
Or interest in any fixing, mending or sorting anything
There will be time

To sit alone but crowded by your own thoughts
Arguing with yourself and loosing
Shedding tears over memories
There will be time

To run from
To embrace and
Run from again the stillness, the silence,
And the deafening confirmation that
You are ‘it’
There will be time

To sit with that
And conclude that you have got yourself this far
And to realise ‘not bad’
There will be time

To honour the journey
The peaks and valleys
The helping and not so helpful hands along the way
But ultimately all shaping the road, and you
There will be time

To turn your attention to your creations
Weaving thoughts ideas, hopes and magic
Into what can be, will be
There will be time….
There will always be time


An alchemist in training

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