The Essence of Time

Time is the greatest essence upon which the poet can focus his measured gaze.

We have watches, we time-in and out at our work place, and we celebrate the New Year with great excitement. But how many of us actually ever capture the essential character and meaning of such things?

That time is only relevant to a cosmic being that is strategically positioned on a planet that is ninety-three million miles away from a life-giving star, this proves this point quite well.

Time measures both, the ultimate reality, and irreality that is human life.
When imprudence attempts to separate this union, it always suffers untold miseries.

To understand this reality is to seek truth and purpose in truly out of the way places, like in those crevices, the essences discovered embedded between two ticks of the clock.

When I think of Borges’ line, “Wine, teach me the art of seeing my history as this were already ashes in the memory,” I cannot help but to think of myself as a small child intuiting the passage of time. This gift, or curse, depending on our temperament, was to become – in fact, has ruled my thought as an adult.

The intuition of time is a gift, without a doubt, because it allows us to witness the fragile state of our being. However, it can also be a curse, by focusing our attention on the essences where truth resides, without readily informing us on how best to communicate our findings.