Time is a Season~

Time planted its feet in the soft ground at the edge of the road, near the long wooden bridge. It held the banks near the river with tendril fingers that became part of the mirage that invited passersby to step on its spine. The slow sway of the wooden slats could mesmerize a person if they stood still long enough to notice, but most were in a hurry, always in some kind of frenzied hurry. Their voices sputtered out catch phrases like popcorn from an air popper with no bowl to catch them.

“Time stands still for nobody.”

“Time flies.”

“Don’t waste your time.”

Time. A creation of man, for the purpose of counting immeasurable quantities of an intangible. We race against it, fight for it, work for it, play with it – time.

Turn the hands back and ignore the face of time. Let the slow sway of the bridge become our metronome as we cross this canyon together. Let us rest in the breath of the wind as it sweeps over our skin, unhurried. Let us build this memory together, unfettered.

© k~