The Bustle of Time

A new day dawns, I’m welcomed into its embrace, I journey its length and breadth, I search its depth. Time is in motion, It reaches the end of its journey, Its continuum collapses. I board a train, Twilight is its last station, Midnight is its final stop, There are no delays, There are no obstacles, In the multitude of my thoughts, In the flow of my desires, I find myself at the final stop. I stand before a portrait, The onus is mine to add my colours, With each brush stroke, With every hue, Time wanders, It tunnels through the elements, A new day dawns, Its portrait lies before me. My tardiness is not a delay, My swiftness is not speed. It’s a strange entity, A mysterious phenomenon, An enigmatic existence, Time brings us to the end of our journey, And takes us into the beyond. January 28, 2024.