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| 3/10/2018 dwm photo |
We might be racing time; counting it; killing time; or waiting for the right time. Before we're born our parents are counting the minutes until we show up.
Kids can't wait to grow up; to go to the show; to drive a car; to go on a date - whatever it is waiting seems to drag, then once the moment arrives it's gone so fast there is no time to savor it.
We age and begin to feel time - aches and pains accumulate with every turn of the calendar. We look for the right creams and colors to hold back the marks time leaves behind.
It's a fact that time goes faster the older we get. A year to a ten year old is 1/10th of their life, to a 70 year old it's a blip, just 1/70th of theirs. That's a flash, a twinkle in time.
Then, as we reach the fullness of time, we wonder it barely moves when as listen for the final bell.
TIME
Microseconds, milliseconds, seconds, minutes, hours,
Days and weeks and months and years and decades pass on by.
Springtime follows springtime and brings the blooming flowers.
Winter interrupts and all the flowers die.
The clock's continual ticking proceeds without a pause.
All are taken captive by unrelenting time.
It's the most unyielding of all creation's laws,
Forcing living beings in and out of prime.
It knows no hesitation but keeps a steady pace,
Rushing on and onward like water down a slope.
It causes fears and worries; it lines an aging face;
It may bring grief and sorrow; it also fosters hope.
The brightness of the future far outshines the past.
Its glory beckons to us as forward we are drawn.
Time shows us each a promise, and we can hold it fast:
The deepest, stillest, darkest night is followed by a dawn.
W.R. Mossner
A Variety of Verse
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