Time Capsule

The deep trench we had running across our property, courtesy of the new water main, provided me with the opportunity to place in it a time capsule before the trench was filled in.

I took a little time to consider what to put in the container; I wanted the finder to be interested and intrigued by the contents whenever they are discovered. In the end I settled upon a chatty letter to the finder telling them a bit about my family and myself, an account of our house, which is reputed to be one of the most haunted in the UK, one of my poems, ’Let Go of Yesterday’, which seemed appropriate to put in a time capsule, and one of my artwork creations, ‘The Hug Bug’.

As the new water pipe has an indefinite shelf life, it is unlikely to be replaced within the next hundred years. I wonder what life with be like when my capsule is found? Will our homes be recognisable to the folk of today, or will things be so hi-tech that by pressing a button all our chores are automatically done for us by the house robots? I WISH! I wonder if the holiday destination of choice will be a luxury space hotel on the moon, or Mars. Maybe the space ‘transporter’ of Star Trek fame will be a reality! More importantly, how will people relate to God in the future? In spite of all the technological breakthroughs, I believe people will still have the need to believe in God.

The future of our planet very much depends on our generation getting to grips with the spectre of global warming induced climate change. If we don’t, the future might not be so rosy for our ancestors who far from living in a hi-tech world, might be reduced to a subsistence lifestyle.

Let Go Of Yesterday

Once the clock strikes twelve

Yesterday is consigned to history

The yearning hand reaches backwards

Grasping the security blanket of yesterday

Today is already rushing on a pace

But the spectre of yesterday survives

Its ectoplasmic grasp weak but still palpable

Yesterday will be fixed in time as a fly in amber

It will remain unchanged despite our regret or longing

Forward facing we must walk through today

To reach the future promised by tomorrow

Reluctantly unclasping hands we let go of yesterday.

Rose-Mary Gower