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# No time
- URL: https://www.qntns.com/no-time/
- Published: 2026-02-01T15:10:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-08-31T16:52:03.000Z
- Description: Time unending is time un-begun, is the twilight of Her mid-day sun, your sabbatical in a clockless land, beneath the lapping leaves of trees that fan.
- Author: Quentin Staley
- Tags: #fixed-lines, Poems

No time

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Time unending is  
time un-begun,  
is the twilight of Her mid-day sun,  
your sabbatical in a clockless land,  
beneath the lapping leaves  
of trees that fan.

“Say,” you say to the you who walks by,  
“What shall I now that there’s no night?  
What will we with unending light?  
Take me star, sun, burn me bright.  
Take me star, sun, make me right.  
Take me star, sun, spare my fight  
that with might be, might be all right  
on this shoreless shore of space, not time,  
can I relax, alas, my knot in spine  
where moments move but do not pass,  
unending sand, Thine hour glass.

I stand upon the water’s edge  
and brush my hands upon the hedge  
beneath a lovely shade of green,  
tall pines of southern canopies  
eating skies of air so blue and  
plucking tunes in minor thirds  
the chirping verse of nature’s birds  
rescinds this curse that I be born  
undoing me that came alive  
for what became must surely die,  
but what’s not birthed  
cannot decease, and  
hence I shall  
ever shall be free

in the place of  
occupancy none  
you celebrate the  
one that’s one,  
where there is  
nothing ever done,  
none due but to  
pass the time  
of time unending,  
no death, no birth,  
no day from night,  
though sons do change  
from time-to-time,  
you never really ever mind,  
but play, and dance, and laugh  
the same, all with yourself  
all that is sane  
to make your worlds  
and change your views,  
returning now  
to neverland,  
to be alone,  
to rest your hands,  
to hug yourself,  
and bid adieu,  
to you and You  
and all you knew,

to drink the milk  
upon mom’s breast  
recalling your  
eternal rest  
where time unfurls  
from scrolls of dreams  
how things were never  
what they seemed and  
knowing this  
the thieves relieve,  
returning you  
your bliss,  
reprieve.