Time.
Oh, how it flies by!
But it’s a kind of transparent species;
An Invisible bird,
That moves with the collective stream,
Thriving within the shifting frames of the sands,
Blowing about the consciousness.
Along its wingspan is that of parabolic change,
An expression not of instinctive sentiment,
But of Corporeality in Essence and Action.
It doth not know of its own release,
As it perpetually spans over its anatomical observers,
Executing apparent catharsis while yet absent of will.
We are the sightseers, although they oversee us.
They are sentient so, as well, but in strict manor.
Ranging from irregularity to symmetry in perception,
But rigidly fixed in sequence and order,
Chronologically, articulating their contingent story,
Of which man renders.
They possess in appearance and state, animosity,
A sense of oscillation about the waves of their motions;
The emotions of nature played out
In seconds,
Minutes,
Hours,
Eons.
Eternities?
Have they not evolved thus from?
Were they not dependent, since origination,
On their Camaraderie with Dimension,
So as to be of influence to this elaborate tangible yield?
Who is he that habitually neglects their dynamic characteristics?
Oh, such precious fouls they are!
Which, alas, must morph unto many men,
As Inexorable hawks,
Sent to quicken them and devour their potentiality.
Time does not tell much, rather it simply performs,
With everlasting duration; it listens, but it does not heed,
A reality that leads often a man to misinterpret.
Never may he truly champion his frame of reference.
Such is his frame only to submit to it,
To freely develop his illustrative intention within his temporal territory.
A creature-its lineage and its descendants-it is that wafts upon him,
Opportunity, under its wings.
Time’s unified counterparts remain flocked in interchanging aviation.
With such noble and transformative longevity,
They shall, in prospect, be made to retire to the ground, by and large,
To rest; never to soar the same again,
But to open-endedly evolve beyond extinction,
Ever so evanescently,
Migrating towards a destination never reached.