Nothing and Everything

Time holds no warmth though it has a pulse. It cannot dance yet maintains a precise rhythm. It possesses the power to move things, bring things to a standstill, but never wavers in its intent. Time is endless yet its stride, the measure between one instant and the next, is infinitesimal. We are most pressed for time while life still stretches out ahead of us. The more time on our hands, the less generally we have to look forward to.

The speed of time is what you make it - watched tightly, time scarcely moves then neither do you; spent lavishly, and time will just as quickly run out on you. Time is measured according to the tick of a clock, the minutes slipping past; the rise of the sun, the years unfolding in our wake; the span of a lifetime, our meager existence marked along the timeline of eternity.