The
Time that is Given Us
“All we have to
decide is
what to do with
the time that is given us.”
That’s what
Tolkien tells us.
The kind of thing
you say
as you lead others
over mountain passes,
open hidden doors,
bring a light to
dark places,
stand upon the
bridge,
banish the flame;
when you are in
control,
sane, sober,
lucid, wise;
when you feel
alive
and death is but a
fear in the dark.
But what of the
end,
when you face the
dark chasm
and all is fire
and darkness about you
and decision is
taken away,
when there is no
more time
and no more choice;
what then?
It is then that
the whip curls about you
the fire envelops
you.
You fall to
unknowable depths of confusion
to places of cold
and slime,
from there to
grasp at the heels of madness;
to follow it up
the endless stair,
to attempt to
reach the summit of rationality
where eagles fly
and reason reigns;
to smite down the
enemy
and return once
more to the world of men
as a new and
greater thing, clothed in white.
But I am no wizard
to conjure my own
fate,
and time is not
mine to conquer;
no there and back
again.
I am but half a
man
on a quest to lose
a precious treasure
and save what I
can,
but not for myself.
Mark Hendrickson is an emerging poet who recently relocated to the Des Moines area. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Synkroniciti Magazine. Before becoming a poet, Mark worked for many years as a mental health technician in a locked psychiatric unit. He has advanced degrees in Music, Health Information Management, and Marriage & Family Therapy.
http://www.markhendricksonpoetry.com/
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