Post 158. Flying Time

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I got to the end of the year and realised my diary was empty.  So much had happened, but I had no record of anything.  I hadn’t made time to sit and ponder.  With all that was going on, I had neglected the main thing.   Meditation.

Empty pages

Nothing to show

Time gone

Its hands sped

Past in a world of dreams

Much of its face spent there

 

What has been done, time?

Occupied by people and things

None for its Maker- No

Goes too fast

Much to do

 

Ruled by numbers

Driven hard

On speeding hands

Each tick closer

Stop!

Flying time

I’m dying

 

Time like an ever-rolling stream

Bears all its sons away

They die, forgotten like a dream

Dying at the break of day

The busy tribes of flesh and blood

With all their cares and all their fears

Are carried downward like a flood

And lost in following years

 

Ruled by numbers

Driven hard

On speeding hands

Each tick closer

Stop!

Flying time

I’m dying

 

Italics: Words by A.W.Tozer

Poem by me

Song by Tony Johnson

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About lindia60

I was born in Durban 56 years ago and lived all my teenage life there. I have travelled extensively, seen many parts of the world and have settled with the fact that India is the best place to be. My husband, Tony and I have lived here for 26 years with our three children and it's just the beginning.. . My dream has come true. It has been a lengthy process but I am now a naturalised Indian Citizen. This is our story from beginning to .....

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