Time stretches and shrinks, and would be a mere child’s plaything,
A Slinky pulled apart, poised to spring back, defying our best intentions,
To lengthen our stay, and give us more time to shape and mold in our own way.
Instead, it becomes only the wish of a long life, recoiling in our hand,
Because the days we have rewound so tightly, and close together that
Like our memories are, they seemed but one day.
So you dance in the moonlight, and sing to the sun, because while you dally with the metal at play,
To understand its ways,
It plays tricks on your mind, and you pay no notice to all the warnings ,
That time is fleeting, and coils are shifty changing things, and are poised to spring away.
And as with other toys made to will things to be, like the so called magic wand,
Often lengthening and shortening, mesmerizing , misdirecting us with sleight of hand
Away from from the truth we know, that Time is not a stretchy toy, but
What leads us where it must,
Never thinking that there is an end,
Until we ‘shuffled off this mortal coil’, and finally rest our heads.
We will have seen time for what it is, the thief of our imaginings.
Surrender. Time is a sorcerer.
Because at once it is a lifetime stretched it seems to eternity, then it is but a blink of an eye, and brief glimpse of what could be.
