Tick-tock

Time chugs along and we wonder where it all has gone- is there perhaps a secret hiding place for time?  Maybe under the couch keeping dust bunnies company or in a secret place in the walls. I wonder a lot as to where people that were once so important in one`s life have vanished.  Where has time taken them?  Where have they gone? Do they rekindle the memories? Do they think back and remind themselves that what they most importantly perceived once in time, a special moment that touched the soul is gone. Forever? A moment in time that was so fleeting, which is ever present in the eternal now. But where is that eternal now?

It is wonderful to live out the pages of a romance novel-we all yearn for that. To be loved by that one special person. Love letters filled with loving words, endearments and violent passion is treasured by the heart - swearing undivided  loyalty, to keep that love burning till the end of time. But where is end of time? Where is the 12^th of never? All  events-good or bad passes far too quickly with time –it just slips away from us no matter how we tend to chain it to us.  Only the shadow remain of every event, fragments of the precious moments-for time is the thief that comes creeping in the night.

We crave so very much to be loved, so we try all kinds of tricks- we try and capture the moments breathlessly in any way we can-still it  all escapes though time, This is the ugly, painful side that time has to  reveal-it passes everyone. We wake up  one morning to the glaring truth of realty- that all was a lie, the illusion of “forever love” burst like a soap bubble in front of our eyes-for  the ticking of time has stolen everything from us. Love, memories and eventually life its very self.

We are such complex beings - like icebergs we have a little floating on top, and all the important parts are below, that need so much time to be explored. It all surfaces at some later date after the passion has ceased to exist-that leaves with time, even its afterglow fades –and flies out the window with the passage of time.  And we stand there alone, naked, broken, bleeding- embraced by the loneliness and exposed to face life alone.

That is when we face the real, truth, the fact that time passes and with it all that is permanent, - for nothing  is permanent with time except change. The only truth is that we are forever are prisoners within the clutches of time.  Do not cry my darling- for death is the lot of man. Time is the silent herald of life and death.