What do you think this poem is about? Waiting on the right time, or the right time waiting on you?
I stared at the glass as sand trickled down, slowly but surely.
I saw my reflection in that glass, but knew it was still early.
My face still youthful, my eyes still wide.
Like a child, I stared, with little to no care.
For that reflection was still beautiful,
Even as that sand was irremovable.
I couldn’t help but look into the eyes of that reflective glass –
They showed me the future, they showed me my past.
The future still waiting,
The past still unchanging.
The sand still trickling down, slow as leaves that fall to the ground -
Seasons passing – like those grains of sand passing through –
Still I stayed and stared – with no way of knowing what to do.
As that reflection was becoming clearer –
I saw those eyes in full terror
As that glass was half empty –
I saw youth had faded like the past, and the future that waited.
And that sand that once trickled, now sat still
And that care - now I could feel
A child no more, for my hour had passed here.