Time and Light

Sometimes on a crisp, clear day, I walk through the light
And do not consider it because I am walking
To somewhere.

Sometimes the light becomes opaque. It is all I see.
Instead of walking through, I pause and allow light’s beauty
To enter me.

Sometimes I walk through time like I walk through light.
I do not consider it because I am walking
To somewhere.

Sometimes time becomes opaque. It is all I see.
Instead of walking through, I am watching myself walking past,
Becoming old,
Dying.

Does time like light, have beauty?
Or is it merely one loss after another?

By Susie Stead
© 2013