As I grasp on tightly,
It slithers away,
Stealthily innocent.
Moving, always moving;
Flowing, always flowing.
Amazing, appreciated slowly,
Unlike its rapid route,
Of going so fast,
When I want it to slow.
Or when it falls away,
Out of reach,
Uncomprehended, but accepted.
An unknown stranger.
Swoosh, and it is gone;
Forever.
Into my hands,
The Miracle of Time.
3 comments:
parts make no sense, but I guess that's the enigma of poetry, huh? ^_^ Lovely concept and you used great word choice in other areas. the ending, the last line, seems out of place.
"Into my hands"
I thought Time "slither"ed away from you. You can't catch Time. Unless there's hidden meaning that I can't see....yes I see some hidden meaning.........ohhh very good Rose! I like it ^_^ I see it!
This is beautiful...and elusive...just like time. Well done! :)
I LIKE THE LAST LINE
even though its (time) not a miracle.
its always been there
and i have beeen researching
did u know that time itself could be unreal!!???
isent that . . . unbelievable!!!
-got it from SCIENCE AMERICAN magazine-
but. . . . AMAZING!~!
i love it
dont listen to kirthi
its really good
BRAVO
-Deniz
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