EVOLUTION

Time heals, it is said
Whither healing?
The moon tosses in the sky
Flips to become the sun
The dew flies into the storm
The breeze battered by the wind
Screams to a squall
Time flies
Carrying with it specks of sand
That have drained the hourglass
It moults
Changing itself
Serpentine, slithering
Without the trail of slime
It left a bouquet of roses
Somewhere in the past
The petals in ashes
The fragrance long dead
The decaying edges
Blowing into the heaviness
Of muted seconds
And deaf minutes
Time waits for no one
Ruthless, devastating, relentless
It carves its own space
Time doesn’t heal
It forces a change