literature

The Sister's Time

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Published: Nov 14, 2011

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Literature Text

Of the Fates there are three,
Who have woven lives throughout history.

The firstborn, she of Sight,
Doth work by candlelight.
She plans the days at night's end,
And with the dawn begins again.
Of Future, fate, and the path not taken
These are the things she divines
And under her fingers, the lives of men
Are taken and spun into thread.

The second child, the middle one,
Takes the lives her sister's spun.
And with expert fingers she records
Everything they've ever done.
It is she who oversees
The Tapestry of History.
She is the one who mortals fear,
For though, she neither convicts nor accuses,
She truth runs between her fingers.

And the youngest, though only in age,
Stands between and watches the two elder.
She never touches the satin strands
Which her sisters spin, weave, and share.
But of mortals lives she is most aware.
For within the Choices made she is confined.
With light in hand, she shadows our steps,
And guards the gates at every rest station.
She is the one who whispers in ears,
Here for a second and gone for years.

The sisters three, of time incarnate,
Watch and wait and see things all.
Potential is the Future, the Past is written,
The time of the Present, though,
Is what we make of it.