Paradox of Time
Time sits within my grasp, or so I believe,
A fleeting companion that I try to weave.
With clocks in hand and calendars set,
I chase each moment, trying not to forget.
Yet, time flows like rivers, free and wild,
I am but a traveler, a passing child.
Though I plan and organize the days,
Time slips through in a thousand ways.
The morning sun, the night’s retreat,
Each hour drifts, quiet and discreet.
In my hands, I hold the sand,
But time escapes unheeding my command.
For time is mine, yet not at all,
An endless dance, a silent call.
I walk through it, I make my way,
But time is boundless, free to sway.
So I let it be, no chains, no strife,
A partner in this journey of life.
Time is a gift, not to control,
But to cherish and embrace as a whole.
