This poem was presented as typographic waves across the floor of the installation.
The full poem is shared below.
Time Poem I
Time is a moving river that sweeps around a bend……
It is a bending branch that waves the air a feathered end……
The ripples of the sea begin from a single whispered breath,
and time rides high upon it and reaches to its depths.
Time is but grains of sand that as they meet along the shore,
are tossed here and there by time again and ever asks for more.
The ripples reach the times of sand, crisscrossing as they may,
weaving threads of life into a fabric that never stays.
It’s just a whisper growing so ever louder in my heart,
as travels take me home again to a place so far apart.
From the stillness of the sands of night that lay below my feet,
I see the ripples building to a crash upon the reef……
Time here is but an ocean that finds seclusion in my heart,
beating slowly as the dawn awaits my arrival for its lark……
To tease me with the gentle breeze, time whispers in my ear.
It marches on out there, it passes slowly here.
But it leaves behind a memory that fades upon the sand,
the ripples of the woven threads of time are at my hand.
Time ticks upon my wrist, a tinny sound that mocks the sea,
whose distant waves crash hard upon the reef no eyes can see……
Time teases me with a cadence on a strict obsessive beat.
The other Time fills air with strength, a sound that carries weight.
Yet makes no future promises of waves until the next
comes crashing down upon the walls of time that plies the depths.
June 28, 2004 • Korolevu, Fiji • Mara Jevera Fulmer