Somewhere in depths of winter, tick,
Your mind is weak and and empty, tock,
Tracks running through your body, tick,
Await their final feeding.
Meanwhile in full blown summer, tick,
Your tiny body withered, tock,
Tears rock you slow and gentle, tick,
You escape the world delivered.
You are strong and hearty, tick,
With spring in all it’s vibrance, tock,
Speed quickly towards your family, tick
While breathless winds engulf you.
In fall you hear them whisper, tick,
Too soon for lessons learnt, tock,
Climb up in your despair, tick,
The fall late for their concern.
Somewhere inside an energetic whirlwind,
Building, expanding and gaining momentum,
Till Time tells You when,
This space insists it must escape.
The inevitability of death is truth. We all will die but does how and when we die make any difference? Only to the living?