~~ by tkbrown
Now finding ourselves in the beauty of fall as Old Jack Frost ponders, propels a call, Old Father Time sputters a bit, finds the hour lost in spring is a fit-- filling the sputter occurring now as Old Jack Frost to time doth bow. Wakening early from habit, but seeming not as bio clock adjustments are sought but incomplete, leaves us a void in time and thought, ne'er enjoyed. Circadian rhythm bereft, not yet replete, swaying left and veering right attempting to level, align the glide-- but depleting, tossing that hour aside-- its enjoyment lost midst the effort spent to reorient mind and body in time and space, renewing the voyage with seeming grace. By the time the body reconciles, it has physically and mentally traversed miles beyond enjoyment of the hour refitted by Old Father Time on a journey committed to one and all--a juggling of that hour betwixt Spring and Fall--enjoyed daylight predicts. Sleeping away the hour saved ensures 'twill never be extolled or raved midst talks of 'past' in future days. Ne'er can be told of bright sunrays casting vim and vigor upon paths chosen to be trod with life and limb beholden. So, choose ye well the spending of your time, awakened or sleeping in a surreal mime of what might have been in that undisturbed hour -- but then . . . either way, if ye spend it well there will be a tale to tell.
Photo Above: copyright Shutterstock.com.