Relativity

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. - Thoreau

it has no meaning

until we give it such

is not defined

until we draw its bounds

we live it

refine it

visit it

waiting for it like an airship

dancing to its metered sounds

whichever song it chooses to play

tomorrow waits whilst yesterday changes its clothes and dons today

both borrowed and lent

never saved and always spent

some holding on and others letting go

blow by blow

giving it names that only we know

holding us captive and giving us hope

clinking and clanking at the end of a rope

never fully grasping its scope

as we succumb to its terms and learn to cope

all of us being victim's of its pilfering crime

it's nothing but a wind chime

this fleeting, coming and going thing called time

Author's Note

"In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line." - Thoreau