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How fortunate are we, how fortunate are we…
Timeless creations, never created, breathing, yet never hold a breath, singing our way, dancing our way, to nowhere but a place to be
…just to be
Human man thinks of time
Of eight o’clock an hour from nine
The sixty minutes in between
pass him by, they’re never seen
Through laugh and tears he tears it down
Yet many seconds are never found
Always the future is in this mans mind
That it may be, so much more kind
than the moment mind calls to heart
the memory from which he will not part.
And all the while, time slips away
And man he has nothing, nothing to say.
For time is free and won’t hold still
No man has stopped, no man can kill.
Yet within the space of this thing called time.
Lies a truth for you and for all mankind.
All that exists existed before there was time
A beautiful space, a beautiful rhyme.
You will find it between the measures of time
In the gaps of the seconds filled by the blind.
It lies in the stillness and purity of heart
It knows not the end it knows not the start.
It is aware of the constant the forever in you
It knows not the lack it knows not the do.
Just close your eyes and lay down your fear
For here is forever
and time never
lived here ∞
Credits: poem © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved