Time is an illusion, still the clock ticks on each day
The more of it we have, the more it slips away
The more we chase it down, the more it runs ahead
The more we grasp it tight, the more it drifts away instead

Time is a deception, a construct in our heads
Still we pull its tapestry, grasp upon its threads
Still we weave our lives, entwined within its whims
Still we fret and wonder, when is the time to begin?

Time is a commodity, time is bought and sold
Time is given to the young, taken from the old
Time is scarce, time is hard, time can be unkind
Time is fading, time is wasting, time is in decline

The time is now and no time else, for time lives in our minds
Let’s take our time, make our time, leave the hands of time behind
Poet Bob sang true, in flaying tones, the time’s they are a-changing
Let’s slow it down, come back to now, the reign of time is waning.

Time is something I’m struggling with at the moment. There never seems to be enough of it, and yet if I’m able to take a step back and slow my mind down, I often find I have all the time in the world.

Thanks for taking the time to read. Please feel free to browse my site for more poems. If you enjoyed reading this you might like Another Way. Subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to be notified of new posts. You can also follow me on Instagram.