Paradox of Time
Time sits inside my grasp, or so I consider,
A fleeting companion that I attempt to weave.
With clocks in hand and calendars set,
I chase every second, making an attempt to not overlook.
But, time flows like rivers, free and wild,
I’m however a traveler, a passing baby.
Although I plan and manage the times,
Time slips via in a thousand methods.
The morning solar, the evening’s retreat,
Every hour drifts, quiet and discreet.
In my fingers, I maintain the sand,
However time escapes unheeding my command.
For time is mine, but in no way,
An infinite dance, a silent name.
I stroll via it, I make my method,
However time is boundless, free to sway.
So I let or not it’s, no chains, no strife,
A companion on this journey of life.
Time is a present, to not management,
However to cherish and embrace as a complete.