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Time

  • partwaythere
  • Aug 20, 2020
  • 2 min read

Updated: Mar 2, 2021

Morning, noontime and night was not good enough for them; they to whom I gave so much.


They cut me up into twelve and another twelve, and then cut each twelve into sixty, and split that sixty into halves, quarters and groups of five. Then just when you thought they must have finished, they cut each piece into a further sixty.


Finally, they had me conquered. Or so they thought.


But I am One: whole, eternal, unified. I cannot be so easily fragmented.


I have no partner; no equal. And as single and singular as I am, I beam jealously down on those couples and groups of friends so thoroughly engrossed in each other’s company that they forget to notice me. But they cannot escape me. I cruelly snatch away their smug moments in an instant. I will not be ignored.


Like anyone, I have my preferences. I am a friend of those who travel East; not so much those who go West. I am generous in Autumn, but exact my pay in Spring. I attend every sporting event, but could do without chess, whose players who are much too greedy.


I foil the plans of those who rush around, thinking they can beat me. No matter how much I give them, they will always feel cheated. As for those who watch me closely, meticulously weighing out their dues – to those fools I will portion out only the very least of my presence.

To those who live in bitterness, I can be unkind, and to those who lie awake at night, I remain close by, unwanted but ever-present. I am not always cruel, however. Those in pain know me as Healer, a balm for all but the deepest of wounds.


My favour rests on those who accept the changes that I bring, calmly observing me glide gracefully by with gratitude for all that they have tasted. The ones I love most are those who take and cherish me; they understand that I am supposed to be relished.


It is only children who really enjoy my fullness; my overflowing dances of sleep and food and trips to the zoo; my entire ocean that must be crossed before I allow birthday presents or Christmas trees; my dreamy horizons that stretch on and on, as yet mysterious.


I am not scarce; I am omnipresent.


Once you realise that, you will always have enough.

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