Sense What Is Time
Time travels, time
stretches...
Slow or speedy,
it's the same ... that's what
we imagine, we realize ...
Time is itself
all the length ...
but it's always there,
in the same space ...
It doesn't stop, but nothing
reaches ...
does not come back,
does not start again ...
It's continuous, doesn't build
but everything does ...
Its tracks are invisible
its steps are without
footprints ...
It exists, but it has no form.
It assists, but does not
show.
We are its expression,
we are its appearance ...
It's ancient and it's fresh,
is young and eld,
but there is no age ...
It is endless beginning,
it's him all time long ...
Our acquaintance
unknown
time...
Copyright © Alkas Poetry | Year Posted 2019
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