Spectrum of Time


I listen to the silence.
Whispers of the past
Each a symphony of time,
And I, the composer, admire
The harmony of events;
And I, the critic, detect
The discords of mistakes,
The music fades softly into the night.
I peer into the darkness.
Shadows of the future
Rehearse a play of life.
And I, the observer, await the final act
Before judging its merits;
And I, the actor, strive for perfection
Regardless of the unexpected.
The curtain of destiny rises on another act.
I touch the empty canvas.
I feel the portrait of my present.
I, the subject, cannot escape
The frame that surrounds me;
And I, the artist, chose the colors
From an unlimited palette
To paint this spectrum of time.

© Robert E. Kogan, 1960-2000

Public Domain Photo