Time doesn’t hold on to us, hold us so close as we once believed. Time goes on around us while we wait here, wait for it all to begin. There was a time when time itself seemed to wait for us, as though each day would wait impatient on the other side of the curtains for us to be up and ready for the day to take us by the hand and lead us out into the green and possible of the new world the morning had found for us.
Back then it seemed as though it could be our world to take and shape around us as though we had all the time that world could contain ready at our fingertips. All just waiting for our single word of command to set the whole thing flowing around us.
These days though time seems distant, as though it no longer wants us, or needs us. It is off somewhere else taking someone else’s young days to wait for them. Nowadays, time is sullen, distant, carrying on without us, not really acknowledging us, just passing by beyond our reach, beyond our ability to take the day and shape it.
The days seem to be over, these days, before we’ve even had a chance to acknowledge them, let alone take them into our hands and feel the weight of possibilities they contain.