Eternal Threads #893

Eternal Threads In the measured march of Earth's own time, Clocks tick the language of the cosmos, Bound by sun and moon's ancient rhyme, A symphony only the universe knows. From celestial beat to the human heart, Time dances, stretches, a flexible art. Moments of joy, suspended beams of light, Hours of sorrow, a river's rapid flight. Memory's loom weaves with vibrant thread, Colors of emotion—joy, love, dread. Each fold of life, a unique shape, Crafted by time, with no chance to escape. Human time, a canvas wide and vast, Painted with moments, future, present, past. Not prisoners of ticking hands or aging skin, But explorers of the spirit found within. So let us weave this tapestry with care, Threads of minutes, hours, days declare, That in each stitch, there’s life, there’s breath, In every woven corner, a dance with death. Through Earth and Human Time we soar, Beyond the limits of what we know, what’s more. Finding in the heartbeat of the fleeting now, Eternal threads, our tapestry, somehow. Written by Steven G. Lee (April 13, 2024)