Time
Some spend Time as the least valued coin
wasted in a spendthrift’s binge
’til there’s nothing left and nothing gained.
Some wear Time as a crown of golden hours
made more precious by the inlaid gems
of jeweled thoughts and secret, selfless acts.
Some leave Time behind as butterflies leave cocoons
transcending their place of transformation
to rise on wings of Timeless glory.
Time, Eternity’s measured beat in the changing rhythms
of Life…
So much Time, so little Time, no Time…
Time, a magic essence, a trick of the mind…
Time is and is not…
March, 1995
Flowerpoet 