Time passes in an odd way.
We think we’ve got everything figured out and then it all crumbles under the weight of quick breaths, strangled emotions, and not enough…. wait…
I think we’ve got it backward. Jumbled. Mixed up. We’re desperately grasping for threads as we sit upon a bed of yarn.
Time isn’t moments ticking by.
Time is patient. It is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. It breathes deep. Caresses the mourning with pain and love too poignant to articulate. Welcomes the sunrise and stands in awe of the majesty of the forest and brooks and antlers brushing against the leaves, lifting tawny head to the rays blossoming into the sky. It sighs as we rush, hurry, think ourselves into disarray and hectic misery.
Time understands that we cannot force anything, anyone.
Holds our hand as we bite our lip and hold the tears in. Smiles against our eyelashes as we all but burst with the succulent blooming of spend your life with me.
Time imbues our veins with the thrill of success, passion that ignites drive, and the simple ecstasy of a life being lived in the right direction.
Learning from the past. Planning for the future. Dreaming. Hoping. Yearning. Yet time is ever aware. Here. Now. Breathing in. Breathing out. Waiting is not a pause. Though sometimes we need both.
Time rejoices at the birth of all life, ideas, love. Sorrows at the loss, the end, the dying. Comforts, revitalizes through the rebirth.
Time is whatever we make of it. Quite literally. Paradoxically, we can never change time. Never go back. Redo. We can start again, fresh.
Time is joy. Time is loss. Time is depth and scratching the surface. Waiting through the pain until we feel we might go mad from atrophy, the dismal slide into entropy. Running in the rain, splashing through the built-up water in the cavities of life until our socks are soaked and our laughter and tears mix in a bursting of something our chest cannot hold. Time is happily not knowing what lurks around the corner. Fear of possible pain. Fear that tomorrow will be precisely as today is.
Time is hope. There is always enough. It is we who must wait. Time cannot.