Time,
Time
A simple concept,
With the power to define,
Even Control,
Life.

Once when I was small,
I pondered over its true meaning,
When I voiced this to my mother she described,
Time,
As an ever flowing stream,
Never stopping,
Always moving,
Without a single look back.
Look towards the future,
Never dwell in the past,
What’s done is done,
And nothing can change that.

For years,
I held that belief,
But then a new point of view was presented,
One that I now prefer.
The,
Simple,
Yet,
Complex
Statement
“Time is relative”
It can speed up or slowdown,
And in theory,
Turn around,
And travel the path it has traveled before.

There is truth in what my mother once said,
You can’t change the past,
But that does not mean,
You can’t stop and go back.

Acknowledging the past,
Is simple,
Close your eyes
And think back to different times.
The ones in which,
You could play every day,
Blissfully innocent,
To the worries of the future.
Remember,
That time you first rode a bike,
And how wonderful you felt,
As peddles and wheels turned.
Or
Look back on the day,
You first met your friends,
And all the fun times that followed.

The mind,
Is a time traveling machine.
Allowing you to visit,
The past,
and
Project into
the future.

Ask me what time is now,
And I say,
It’s a path going ever forward,
But allowing you to go back.
It lets us pause to smell the roses,
See the mountains,
Taste the sweet breeze on our skin.
It lets us take a glance over our
Shoulders,
So we can see the beauty,
A second time.