Time doesn’t flow like a river or a stream.
It doesn’t crawl forward at a slow trickle,
it’s neither clear nor calm.
It doesn’t lazily drift by without a care in the world.
Instead, it is a rushing torrent of water.
Riptides and rapids, it is constantly pulling and grabbing at our feet.
Time is frigid and fast, never stopping for a second.
Dark premonitions make it swirl menacingly, cold as the ocean’s depths.
It crashes onto rocks, bombarding the sand like a WWII air strike.
It drags us to the ground with the speed of a cheetah,
the strength of a shark clamping down its massive jaws,
the ferocity of a wild grizzly bear charging at its prey.
Time is controlled chaos.
Everything drops into free fall, cascading beautifully down a gentle bluff.
It sparkles as it catches the light at the perfect moment,
each lucent orb a glowing diamond, forever reaching towards the sky.
It seems to hang in the air, beautifully suspended,
a dew dusted spiderweb in morning’s first light.
Time transcends our mental limitations,
untainted and pure in a world so full of poison and pollution.
It falls with the grace of a feather,
splashing into a shallow pool and causing rippling rings.
Each ring slowly reaches the edge of the pool,
lapping softly against a pebble beach.
Time is gentle, nurturing and soft.
Each pebble is round and silky
resurfaced by the ages’ gentle caress.
Finally time becomes motionless, coming to rest in the shallow basin.
At last, it reaches a tranquil, glass-like stillness.
It is only then we truly understand Time.