I hang in silence, bound by time,
Yet still, I wait, with hands that climb
No further than the space they’ve known,
A world of moments turned to stone.

I watch the light, the dark, the shade,
The passing hours that never fade.
Yet I remain, unmoved, unspun,
A ghost of time, though time has run.

The ticking world I used to hear
Now hums along, I disappear.
In quiet rooms, I stand and gaze
At fleeting lives, at endless days.

For though I’ve paused, the world goes by,
While I am locked beneath the sky,
A witness to what time forgets—
The dreams we keep, the past regrets.

And though my hands will never turn,
The lessons of the stillness burn:
In waiting, there’s a truth I find—
That time is kept within the mind.
#FrozenTime


© Brian C. Jobe