in Poetry 82 Words

An Hourglass Flipped






Time is a word, time is many a moon
They say time is the greatest healer
This fourth dimension that moves life
Irreversible sequence
That writes into our soul
Moving through our hearts
It takes and makes
Past, present
Future
To 
Take 
Charge of
To create
A now that comes
Calibrating life
A fleeting unstillness
Touching a kind of open
Living, breathing the act of being
The before, the after, and maybe
The instant and the constant that is time.

# Double Etheree


			
			

				

					
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			69 thoughts on “An Hourglass Flipped”		


		
		
    
					
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      Just remembered you yesterday and wondered where you were. 
      

      Thank you, Venessa. I am okay. It’s good to hear from old friends. It’s just not the same anymore , you know.
      
Wishing Darrin and you all the best . Have a safe holiday.. love ❤️ 
      

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    “Irreversible sequence That writes into our soul Moving through our hearts It takes and makes Past, present, Future”
    

    *A fleeting unstillness”
    

    Such eloquent and beautiful descriptions of time and how it operates Yassy! 😁👌❤️👏
    

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        It sure does fly by Yasmin! 👍 Keeps moving forward not back. Which is why we have to make the most of every single day! 😁❤️
        

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    Hey there Yasmin. I know I’m a little late but still this poem was too good to pass up the chance of showing my appreciation. I absolutely love it, it is so beautifully worded but the last line, ‘The instant and the constant that is time.’ were my favourite. :))
    

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    The time, yes. That other naive illusion necessary and precise to be able to calibrate the lapses of movement, between the… also imaginary, necessary and precise… two specific points, referents of its course: The observer and the observable bodies or events.
    

    Illusion after illusion, in an orderly stealthy cadence… is how worlds, phenomena, events and the illusory separate entities that inhabit them… are generated.
    

    ….
    

    Your writings inspire countless different and distant readers who feel benefited from the balsam of your serene narrative pulse… that, not only propagates beauty, but also wisdom.
    

    So, from here, I feel the necesity of emitting a very sincere toast for feeling me another ilusory point of reference in the midst of all of them… in order to attempt to preserve the tissue of space and time that allows the continuity of the flux of movement and cycle of perpetual change.
    

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