Sands of Time
Poem for the never-ending poem

I am here I was here I will be here until The end, if ever there will be one since I cannot remember when I began, maybe I Have never even started because I run through Countless hands, which cannot hold me since I Flow unstoppable and fluid and encounter no stony Obstacle on my course Unswervingly Indifferent Scorched I give rise to the dry Streams and ripples that make up stories Neverending, and neither Alpha nor Omega in History, when my specks represent the infinite Knowledge that sums up mementos of an aeon I Recorded and archived, each moment to chronicle as My story is your own and My story is as ancient as Time, Which flows with Me through the Merciless Hourglass Of Your Life
This poem was written in response to the Never-Ending Poem challenge from Alex Kilcannon’s beautiful haiku:
And his challenge theme was Sands of Time. I liked to express how sand may symbolize Time, and I also designed that idea in the shape of my lines as they were ripples and funnels. I hope my poem reverberates that certain appeal to medieval flair according to the challenge.
Maybe you’ve already entered the challenge of The Never-Ending Poem. But if you still like to keep it going, try to measure yourself with the theme I have already launched in a previous prompt: Phantasmagoria.
I do not tag anyone as I like every poet or writer on Medium to take part freely in this umpteenth prompt in any preferred form of writing. If you will tag me and link my poem to your post, I will read it with great pleasure and the utmost curiosity.
The original guidelines of this challenge say that you may post your work in any publication of your choice. It all started from Martin Rushton’s poem: