The Messenger Called Time (An Original Poem)

delphia16 (59)in #life • 8 years ago (edited)

As I read a blog from @ericvancewalton's post, my heart sank and got inspired at the same time. We never know how long we've got. Are we using it wisely? Are we spending it on the things that matter? Let's make every moment count. In that moment, I reached into the reservoir of the well of words that the creator has given me and I came up with this poem on time.

This is a tribute to @ericvancewalton's post titled Too Simple To See. I hope this touches someone's heart too.

Image credit: The Chin Voice

Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock! Says the clock
Oblivious of its might, power and unwritten plan for all
Each stroke nailing a coffin, never to return, never recovered
Once gone, forever gone
It might then be wise, to keep account of our lives

This minute, that's all you've got
The next, is not a guarantee
A mirage, an illusion, potentially that's all it is
So why waste that which you're sure of
Rather than wait for that which might not be yours

It is a privilege you know, to see the sun rise in the morn'
To walk the face of the earth in yet another dawn
Feeling the gentle and strong brush of the wind caressing the face
While many may have slept the sleep of death
What a great privilege it is to still remain in time

We take a lot for granted
And not give enough to the moments, the moments that truly count
Thinking surely, there's still time to make the wrong, right
Putting off making amends, yet to another day
But how wrong we are!

Image credit: Pic Pulp

Time is a debt, naturally fading, always depleting
And from whom it is borrowed, to that one, it must be returned
Maybe if we knew when the lender would seek possession
When the swing of the pendulum will cease
We may be more tempted to spend it wisely

Let go of the feuds, the quarrels,
Let go of the anger and bitterness, assigned to eat up what you've got left
Before one is taken and one left behind, crossing that chasm that permanently divides,
Embarking on the journey of no return, the journey of death
Then, it may dawn on you that indeed you've wasted time on trivial things that just don't matter

Image credit: quotationof

Make your time count, Make your presence felt
Enjoy every moment like it is the last, give meaning to your existence
And let those around you enjoy the greatness locked away somewhere in there
Let your void be noticed, let your presence be missed.
Then your marks in the sand of time will become indelible.

'cos tomorrow, you might not be here
The ultimate demand might be asked of you
To give up that which you had from birth
Given from the first day you saw the sun but the last sunset, you'll never know
What would you do? Is your house in order?