Passing Time

(With apologies to King William)

yesterday, and yesterday and yesterday
the memories flood and drown
Why do I still live, stop the clock now
turn the key, lock my life
for those were good days
warm days of summer, never to return
a snapped album, faded roses
it is the story of history, told by a lover full of tears
lamenting a lost love.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Macbeth

today , today, today
in marvelous paradise second by second
to the full cup of divine love
it is the way of all life
and the creation of eternity
where all our tomorrows have a new sun
aglow in sparkled light, forever shining.
it is the tale of a wise man, full of beauty and joy,
signifying everything.

Richard Scutter 12 December 06


Some notes in relation to time ...

Time is the moving image of eternity … Plato

We live in a perpetual present. Behind us we have our envisaged past; with us is our own confusing and imperative present, subject to compulsive expedient; ahead of us we have only our surmised future of unsure prophecy and expectation. With these we make our way, doing what we must and constantly bending to demanding necessity, while trying to hold fast to our best intentions.

Ray Parkin … The Bark Endeavour