The Supply of Power

The time morphs

without power,

deleting the government propaganda

and the lies, lies, lies

and I am grateful for silence

although the others

shout across the empty rooms

uneasy without the blue-lit

distractions.  They were raised

in a different time

wearing watches still

making plans now

to restore all the digital

timepieces as soon as

the restoration occurs.

I visit a 400-year-old oak tree

who resides in the city

on her own plot, fenced

with careful signage

commanding respect.

Beneath her huge branches

time elongates

until she is standing

in a stream

of her own 

lifting praises to the skies;

I hear them now

in the wildness of the wind

that forces us off the grid

out of the zone

of comfort and into

the icy grip

no power

as time stands still.

Written for a prompt #OctPoWriMo Day 20, Time Stands Still and inspired by this beautiful 400-plus-year-old oak tree.


Small size tree


Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

One thought on “The Supply of Power”

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