An illusion named Time

One that cannot be purchased,
Neither saved nor spent,
Cannot be owned nor enslaved,
Cannot be donated,
Nor received as gift,
What difference does it make,
On or in our hands,
An illusion
We think we have,
We measure and be precise,
We boast and we prance,
How much we saved or spent,
And then boom,
It stands still,
Eternity embraces,
Fragments of fossilized bones
Tell stories of
End of an illusion.

Author: pranabaxom

Poetry is my passion. I am not a methodical writer. I have no set topics to write about. What I feel, perceive, think about, I will like to share in this blog. I open my mind to the world. Like the weather, sometimes my poems are cloudy, sometimes stormy. I always like to see sunshine streaming through the leaves of trees, so I hope I can share some of those sunshine with my readers.

4 thoughts on “An illusion named Time”

  1. 🙂
    Beautiful!
    Time is the priceless gift we are given at birth,
    But we can’t touch nor hold on to it.
    But still can give time to someone as the most precious gift, without adding to his or her time, yet diminishing ours.
    Illusive, it is!
    But time is also, elastic!
    We are reminded to handle
    Time with utmost care!
    Once the part that we are given is gone,
    There is no more events there.
    He says: I am Time!
    And He is:
    Without a beginning.
    And
    Without an end.

    Syeda Jebeen Sabira Shah.
    New York. 2nd July 2021

    Liked by 1 person

    1. When I posted the poem today, little that I realized that the last couple of lines will come true for someone that I had the pleasure of knowing very well recently. I just wish that I would have make some time to pick up the phone and call him.

      Like

  2. Nice poem. I have a completely different view of the value of time. I think it is the most valuable asset in one’s life. I call it the currency of Heaven. For example I do not believe giving gold or silver (trinkets or service) will ever satisfy a lover’s heart, not a child’s heart. You can’t buy love with anything except time. Your time, however, might be used in service or material ways.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Oneta for reading and commenting.
      I am not talking about the valuation of time.
      Unknown to me, as I was posting the poem on my blog, someone that I had the opportunity to come to know well recently passed away suddenly. I was supposed to talk to him this weekend but alas, that would now never be. The irony of the last couple of lines of my poem hit me really hard.
      Wish I made the call last week but I didn’t have time, right?

      Like

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