Time
Time
Like a shimmery satin
Ribbon blowing in the wind
Time slips and twists,
Its meaning constantly shifting.
How much time is there?
Do we have time? How long?
Can space be time? Is there
Only a certain space of time
In which we are caught, live
Out our lifespan and die?
There is a certain time,
To catch a train, a set time
For an appointment.
How long is a stretch of time?
Is time enough just enough
Or more than enough?
Is it an hour, a week, a year?
Is an eon still time?
Does time have weight?
Can it weigh heavily on someone?
When is there not enough time?
A day to take a trip?
A month to pay bills?
Is time longer or shorter
When you don’t have the money?
How can time be short for
One person and long for another?
Is a long time heavy or light?
What about a moment in history?
Is the moment time?
Is history time or is it space?
So, what IS time? Is it flexible?
A perception? An idea? How can
Time be both exact and inexact!
Clock pendulums swing, but
They tick off only the hours,
And minutes and seconds,
Never the elastic, elusive time
Which spins its own thread,
That constantly weaves in
And out of our lives,
Like a ribbon in the wind.
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