There’s a saying
Time waits for no man
Time can be relative
Or a revelation
Time cannot be extinguished
Or diminished
When waiting
Time feels elongated
Like watching the grass grow
It levitates
Holding itself suspended
In a reality of its own making
Transforming itself as if static
Standing still
Yet time ticks on
Like the striking of Big Ben
And the universe moves
At its predetermined pace
While we poor mortals
Suffer the interminable seconds
Of the atomic clock
That stands still
Only in our consciousness
Waiting like Pandora’s Box
To be opened
And return to its natural pace
Of sixty seconds
Sixty minutes
Waiting for time
Time holding a new reality
Time demonstrating its ability
To transfix
And open new vistas
Only time can reveal



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