A little poem musing on this again.
***~***~***~***
Concept of time
Time, it is a constant
That’s what some people claim
Yet there’s no denying
That we travel on through space
Our planet’s revolutions
They only go one way
And sun and moon they rise and fall
Along with oceans’ tides
That every such journey
Of our sun across the sky
Can be both same and different
Is proof that things do change
The pull upon our bodies
Their slow, but sure decay
That people come and people go
What word to describe that?
It shows that life is precious
That for us, there is an end
Call it time, or something else
But for gods’ sake, make it count
***
Fantasy Transcendent 