Writing on the Wall Commissions:

Pauline Cummins 


Change is Here...

No longer listening to self-limiting thoughts,

telling me ‘I can’t, shouldn’t, will never’.

Instead thoughts praise my efforts.

Change is exciting,

it promises transformation. 

An adventure unfolding

What we’ve imagined

longed for.

Dream big, be bold. 

Set goals.


We change our hair styles, jobs. 

We have children,

change our minds, opinions. 

We’re always in a state of transition.

New beginnings mean

not allowing yourself

to turn back, look back, think back.

Extraordinary, efforts are required

to block thoughts that take us back

to the familiar and comfortable.


New beginnings mean,

letting go of what we know.

Daring to dream.

Stepping out in faith.

Allowing joy to become excitement.

Accepting new possibilities 

starting a new chapter

Life rewards those who take risks.

Leaping into the unknown

Landing on both feet


I Dream of writing.

finding pleasure in words.

Initially, words land precariously.

Before taking form, 

taking shape, making sense.

A journey from an empty page 

to poetic verse.

Painting a view of my world.


Change is here…


Image: clock, analogue

I should have taken more care with something so precious and rare

I behaved like I had time to spare, all the time unaware.

Time played an elaborate trick; I believed it slow, it passed quick

Momentarily turning my back found I’d scarcely time to unpack.  


I wish I’d been more discerning about things I’d found concerning.

Time wasted on senseless worries or spent in an endless hurry.

Or learning from poor choices as we learn to express our voices.

Does time increase in worth as it travels around the earth?


Is time a social agreement coordinated for convenience?

The clock forever beating rhythmically never ceasing.

Is time allotted to all a contract before we were born? 

That’s ours alone, albeit just on loan.


I should have written a checklist of experiences not to be missed 

Will l reach a grand old age or get-up one day not knowing I couldn’t stay?

This body which I’ll leave behind neither limited or confined.

Giving up the form, assigned to each when born.


Is time eternal and when I die will time escort me beyond the sky?

Constant, mesmeric, silent and swift maybe time is life’s greatest gift.