The Ledger of the Moment By: Jim Gandolf

The Ledger of the Moment 

Poem 

By: Jim Gandolf 

©️11032025

I stand upon the edge of now, a point unseen,

Where past and future meet, a razor-thin demesne.

A scale suspended in the void, no anchor, no known base,

This balance of all time, held only in this space.

The left pan holds the Echoes:

The empires dust, the lover's sigh,

The countless ages flashing by.

A weight of what has been and gone,

From first faint light to setting sun.

It groans beneath the pressure vast,

Of every moment that has passed.

The right pan waits for what is Coming:

The unspent breath, the yet-to-be,

The seed that struggles to be free.

The unknown futures, bright or dim,

A calculation on a whim.

It shivers with the potential deep,

Of promises the ages keep.

And I, the fulcrum, feel the sway,

As yesterdays give way to day.

No one perceives this subtle lean,

The constant shift, the in-between.

They measure seconds, swift and small,

But miss the tipping point of all.

They see the hands upon the clock,

But not the granite where I rock.

Is one grain heavier, or light?

Does memory outweigh the sight

Of what the morrow has in store?

The answer stays behind the door.

I hold the tension, taut and true,

The imbalance only known to few.

For in this perfect, fragile poise,

Lies all of history's faint noise,

And all the silence yet to rise.

Jim Gandolf