All the Clocks

All the clocks are running down
All our temples turn to dust
All the seasons wheel around
Say what you will, do what you must

The snowy peaks are set to thaw
Our high ideals will melt and drip
The streams become a waterfall
Erode our empires, bit by bit

All the clocks are running down
All our bridges turn to rust
All that’s lost will yet be found
Lay down your bets on gods you trust

The battle’s reached the castle wall
Our grand defence will never last
The pride of kings begets their fall
Our future echoes from the past

All the clocks are running down
All our dreams a bitter pill
All the cities sink and drown
Say what you must, do what you will

The ocean listens as we call
Our yearning drifts upon the tide
The planet wraps us in a ball
Our beauty soothes the fears we hide

All the clocks are running down
All our days are meant to thrill
All the fruits lie on the ground
So pick them up, enjoy your fill

The forest trees are growing tall
Our spirit reaches for the skies
The flowers bloom throughout it all
Our hope still blossoms on the rise

All the clocks are running down
All our rain and sun above
All the roads are nowhere bound
It matters not, if we have love

Wayne Visser © 2011

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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