THE HOURGLASS

I see the grains of time sink inexorably through the hole,

 taking me with them, legs and feelers scrabbling

desperately, trying to get a grip

on the smooth glass sides

of oblivion.

But

as I fall onto the sharp cone below

I realise it is not

the end.

The Glass is not a scheming trap

from which there is no escape.

The Creator only has to pick it up

at any time

and turn it over

and set it down again

and the grains start flowing

the other way. Taking me with them.

C. Tim Taylor 2013