Poem 640 – Time

‘I’m trying to carve out time’.
What a strange phrase that is,
as if time were a solid
block of wood or stone.
It’s true that running out
of time can be like running
headlong into a wall,
immutable and solid.
But can time be chiselled into
shape? Be forced into
a form that fits our hopes?
Have violence done upon it?
Surely time is fluid?
It simply runs around
one’s fingers, flows away,
oblivious to our lives.

Today, reflection upon the book ‘The Unhurried Pastor’ and the constant demand of deadlines, has had me thinking about the nature of time.
(15.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by its cataline on Unsplash

Poem 300 – Aaaargh!

All this jostling and bustling,
My to-do list is hustling,
Tasks shoving and pushing,
To get the first look in.

The long-term and urgent,
Are scarily convergent.
They’re shouting, demanding,
Screaming, commanding.

They’re fighting and scrapping,
Wrestling and grappling.
Practising mad tricks,
With devious tactics.

I can take it no longer,
It’s driving me bonkers.
I swear there’s no doubt,
It’s time to scream out…

‘Form an orderly queue,
All you things to do,
There’s no need to run,
I’ll get you all done.’

But the truth of the matter?
The list’s getting fatter,
And by the close of each day,
The end’s further away!

For a whole variety of reasons, September to December is always the busiest time of year for me, with one thing following hot on the heels of the previous! Experience tells me I’ll get it all done, but there are days when it feels more than a little daunting.
(22.09.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Ryan Snaadt on Unsplash