Time itself, a fickle thing,
A fleeting gift, that soon takes wing.
For once it’s gone, it’s gone for good,
A fact that’s often misunderstood.
The moments pass, with each tick and tock,
And with them, the memories that we’ve wrought.
But what of those, who find themselves lost,
In a time that’s passed, and long been crossed?
A place where time, no longer reigns,
A world of silence, where nothing remains.
A fate worse than death, a fate unknown,
Where life’s fleeting moments, are all but flown.
For time, it seems, is a devouring beast,
That feasts on life, without a care, in the least.
So let us cherish, each moment that we’re given,
For time, like a thief, can leave us quite stricken.
And though it may seem, like time’s on our side,
The truth is, it’s fleeting, like the ebbing tide.
Surfer Mentality
“When a surfer gets up on a wave, they enjoy the present moment, even though they know that the wave will eventually end.
They fully enjoy this wave, with the wisdom and awareness that there are always more waves coming.”
EXTRA CREDIT ARTICLES:
TIME – The Elastic Trickster
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