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By Jerry Robbins


How was I to know
The years would go
As fast as they sped away
I look back
And see no track
No expansive yesterday

It’s empty space
The brief race
Across the temporal plain
How give account
Of all that time
I’m at a loss to explain

It’s the speed that’s it
Years compressed in time
How did it happen
This Mach 3 flight
There is no reason or rime

I would this speed deny
It makes no sense to me
Until I look around at all my friends
Who have speedily become
Just as old as me

This is the fix that we are in
We are defined by our age
But young or old
Ancient or new
All a brief time on the stage

So I’ll take my trip
Not complain about it
It was a good ride
I can say
An now near done
One final run
At the end of the hastening day

Jerry Robbins is a graduate of Gettysburg College (Philosophy major), Yale University Divinity School, and Hartford Seminary Foundation (Ph.D.). He has had 3 books published (Carevision by Judson, The Essential Luther by Baker, and Provocables by C.S.S.), many articles, and over 100 book reviews.

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