Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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A Slave to TIme

A Slave to TIme

A Poem by Caleb

 

A slave to time, you and I.

A slave to time, indeed.

A slave to all the ticking gears

that pry, in full, our needs.

 

 

When do we fight the hands of time?

When is there freedom from their grasp?

When will all the time of present

mingle with the past?

 

 

The truth is, well, bluntly,

that the time will never come.

Time’s grasp is ever-timeless so

as long the fiend of time is here,

                   the war will not be won.

© 2008 Caleb


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An interesting view of how we are at the mercy of time, as it passes by, regardless of our wishes, how it moves of its own accord - either too slow - or - too fast. Without a means to slow time, speed up time, travel back and forth in time, we could be found to be victims of time. For whether we are of light spirits or within the depths of a dark mood, time continues on - it will continue on long after we fail to continue on ourselves. Perhaps though, in the acceptance of that, we can see our freedom and realize that we are not slaves of time. For, though time flows, we can generally choose how we spend our time. At some point, we will be freed from time. Yet time, trapped by time itself, will simply go on and on. Is not time the greatest slave of time then?

Posted 14 Years Ago


Very good idea. A lot more could be said. Yes, we are slaves of Time--"Time am I, the Destroyer of the Worlds" (Bhagavad Gita 11). Sometimes Time goes slower, and sometimes it passes very swiftly. it usually goes slower when we want it to go faster, and vice versa. Is there a timeless realm--I beleive there is, although it is inconcievable. Great musicians and novelists enter it through their works. The Buddha says, "Work out your salvation with diligence--change is inherent in all component things."

Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on December 14, 2008

Author

Caleb
Caleb

Williamson, WV



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�Twas once upon a night of which I roamed about the land until I came across a town that gleamed with ghouly beams. and I stood there upon the hill with courage at my hand, yet chains of f.. more..

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A Poem by Caleb