Time’s Power

Starting the week with this meditation on patience and time. The monorhyme runs through the entire poem, but notice how the repetition itself becomes the ‘silent player’s skit’ the poem describes. What are you nurturing today that requires time rather than effort?

“Time’s Power”

Excavating bit by bit,

On a slope afraid I’ll slip,

All I have is my own wit,

So must rest and think a bit.

Much refreshed my mind now lit,

Coupled with enduring grit,

Double down then I must quit,

Else this hole becomes a pit.

Halfway done I now must knit,

Empty space with nature’s kit,

Gently place as they befit,

Sprouts of providence’s writ.

Nurture, cherish, ponder, sit:

Time’s the silent player’s skit.

Other things are but a whit,

Farmer’s wisdom ne’er omit.

Comment: A sixteen-line meditation in monorhymed quatrains. Each four-line stanza digs deeper with relentless closure—time as patient farmer, not tyrant. The final stanza turns labor into providence.