My How Time Flies

Since the elders often proclaim, my how time flies, You then naturally look up into the skies. To study the heavens for at least one small sign, From the horizon up to the tallest tree line. Then suddenly, a flock of birds flitters about, So you believe that you might have time figured out. But when the old people mentioned, my how time flies, They didn’t bring up birds; so is time in disguise? As a carnival balloon, yes that’s it, you say, Like the vanishing kind on a bright summer day. But losing your own, is one of life’s biggest fears, Since you don’t want to waste any time crying tears. It’s possible that time is commuting by plane, Which is surely the fastest speed time could attain. But what good can that be when the planes out of sight, Unless it quickly returns from its roundtrip flight? Then is waiting around to see time such a waste, When each day there are many affairs to be faced? Then out of the blue a helicopter is seen, And you reflect, maybe time is on that machine. But as soon as a copter is here it’s gone by, After noisily chopping the beautiful sky. Although it’s very unlikely time takes that ride, Unless it cannot hear, or ear plugs are supplied. Wait a minute, I got it, time surfs over clouds; If I could do the same all my friends would be proud. And occasionally time would appear as rain, But then an excess amount would go down the drain. Then could time be a portion of air all the time, To be breathed in, or to give life to a wind chime? Though, is that really flying like old people claim? It seems all my guesses are exactly the same. Well, after a long life of thinking and trying, To figure out the ways that time could be flying, In heaven, by feather, or motor, as vapor, Yet, not one of those ways can be proved on paper. Until recently, when I looked in the past, The answers were there for those time questions asked. That time really flies, though it takes time to see, That a lifetime of living, is the real key. And now I tell the young, that time truly flies, But don’t bother looking up into the skies. Time earns its wings every day, inside the mind, And can only be seen, when looking behind! David Fisher for Impress Me-Iambic Meter Contest Philosophical motif