The price of time costs what we are willing to give away.
If we live by its measure, then we become its slave,
Obeying its boundaries and beholden to its margins.
Nature moves by a slower pace,
Chaperoned by the Sun
Open to our companionship
When we live out every moment
As precious and temporary, we spend it more wisely.
We accept change as a matter of course,
Abandon its artificial binds,
And apportion our actions along the light of day.
We create more than what we destroy.
We illuminate with the same energy,
Our parent star shares freely with us,
Sparking a flame that if allowed to burn
Will raise good warmth and an immeasurable fire.
For what dreams and rest we spend at night
Will blossom in full when we awake
Copyright © 2014 Charles Edward York
No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*
- Author: Charles Edward York ( Offline)
- Published: February 1st, 2022 02:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
Comments1
The 'time' is coming up to half past Winter here in the UK!
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