Time is a gift

Time is never wasted,
because in its entirety

it is nothing other than a gift.

People speak, lips move
And spirits breathe out

Through lived realities unshared.

Glimpses and mysteries, though some bore,
Are always a privilege;

Encounters with another.

My world spins on within my soul;
What might others glean

Of all that I hold most dear?

Do I ramble on, meanderingly long?
Am I useful, honourable, a blessing?

Does my king shine through?

For, after all, this Time

And these encounters,
Are his gift to us of that strange thing called Life.

Written on September 20th 2018

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