Time, oh Time

Time, oh Time

master of life,

are you a lie?

Do you exist?

Can you be described?

You don't fit in words.

So, most of our decisions are controlled

by something not clearly identified.

Are you an invention of mankind?

Tell me, Time,

are you a circle or a line segment?

I feel that my birth is not behind me

but somewhere around here.

I feel that my death is not following

but spirally re-appearing.

You know, Time,

I get the sense that

you're both movable and stable simultaneously.

But finally, you just are,

and human consciousness has to get wider to capture your real essence.

Did you enter the field of my perception during an R.E.M. sleep?

I think we coordinated for a moment

and you said something that keeps swirling in my mind:

"If I could fit in words somehow

those could have been:

I'm an eternal Now".