Time As A Toy

silvery pink the tiny hourglass' sand
I held in my early hand sifted through
fascinating to view

Time as a toy

over and over again
and I think then I never thought of Time
as the soup I was in with one end in view

or even at all except as the clock on the wall
at school and the holiday feeling that ensued
as twenty after three

when we were free again to take the bus

to  the flowery fortress of home.
how I wish I could still be that free
and they would be welcoming me.

but that's a story for another story hour
and one in full colour.
the question is: what if time really is a toy

God's toy and ours
that we could play with
if the world were still Paradise

or perhaps we can
find a way to stretch the tent of it
so that there is still time

to consider all these things
the galaxies in our head
and what was said or left unsaid

with clear delight.
and not dread.

mary angela douglas 1 october 2017