To know time

Time is the decomposition
Of life between birth and death.
Measured not in seconds or minutes,
Not by days and nights nor seasons,
It is known by how we see it,
A calculated mechanical representation,
Time is those special instances,
Those cairns we leave behind,
Milestones that mark our progress,
Memory’s points of reference,
Their panorama is so vast,
An overwhelming joy to behold,
Yet it seems in an instant,
They are gone forever, and ever,
For this brief flicker of consciousness,
We hold the cosmos in our hearts,
Never realizing that it is there,
We float on the bubble of eternity,
Every particle connected,
Every atom related to creation,
To accept this absolute truth,
To be aware of it,
Is to know thyself,
To know and love your time,
Your eternal instant.

©2011, Donald Harbour