Fossura Horologium
An Ekphrastic Sonnet
“Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what's left and live it properly. What doesn't transmit light creates its own darkness.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
We are the dying: quick, but soon to slow
And all of our tomorrows are but dreams
How little we possess; how much we owe
Our fabric, subjunctive, is sown from seems
No second beyond this one is certain
So many systems verge upon collapse
Already falling is the dark curtain
On each capillary and bright synapse
Consider a countenance that you love
Read it as a map to a sepulcher
See that, while the soil we remain above
We ought to hear as fiction the future
The present shares the name of every gift
Make everything you can of it; be swift
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Comments (5)
That final couplet! And "sown from seems"..yeah, you were hitting your stride with this poem. Well done!
gawd that's beautiful
Great sonnet! "...sown from seems..." great phrase.
I didn't know what a sepulcher was! I learnt something new today from you! Loved your poem!
Blimey, D.J.! This is existential reflection for me to read over breakfast. I will do my best to shed light on things today. I need to read more Marcus Aurelius.