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Tag Archives: Time

In dreams we’ve enjoyed an enchanted embrace

As the sun set its waning glow upon the lace

At the fringe of your dress, dancing in the breeze

Casting delicate shadows as we glide with ease

To our own tune, humming sweetly as we go along

With no strings or conductor; who needs them for a song

About a love that knows no boundaries or potion?

Ours will rival and conquer the most cynical notion

That true love has faded in a world grown material.

Ours will rise above and prove itself ethereal.

With the sand beneath our feet, our spirits entwine

In a step so mystical it never feigns to be divine,

And soon passion may flourish, and romance may nourish

Your faith, that such grace, exists.

The tragedy of this world is that no one is happy, whether stuck in a time of pain or joy. The tragedy of this world is that everyone is alone. For a life in the past cannot be shared with the present. Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone

-Alan Lightman in Einstein’s Dreams

A profound snippet from the novel by Alan Lightman. It touches on a subject that I think all of us have had experience with at one point or another. It reflects on our tendencies as humans to look back on our past and in a way, stay stagnant in their memory. It points out that although looking back is quite natural, or unavoidable, that we cannot allow those moments to define our future.

An updated version of a poem I blogged about about a week ago. Hopefully it surpasses the original in my viewer’s eyes. 

It was the happiest and saddest moment of his Summer.

All in one sitting with you, happiest and saddest.

The excitement of your smile brought on one of his own.

A truly exquisite feeling, no other has come close.

Still in his broken mind, a time bomb awaits its trigger.

When the feeling of serenity falls victim to displeasure.

In all his doubt, he still believes you will be back some day.

Yet your departure has always caused his soul to constrain.

Wrapping tightly around the detonator, break your gaze.

Your beautiful eyes need not see him blown away.

And plug your ears, no need for you to hear

the explosive rambling of a man lost with love.

unsuccessful at his every quest for one to take hold.

He only wishes to share what he holds so close.

A burning passion, love that is true. 

A man can only hope.

My heart knows not days, weeks, months or years.

It knows not the sub-zero Winter or the gale winds of Fall.

It knows not the pleasantry brought by another’s call.

It knows not the twilight before the darkness of night.

Nor the Rooster’s cry when sensed the sun’s faintest light.

It only knows of the warmth her porcelain skin emanates.

It only knows of the swift step in her royal gait.

It only knows of the smile that shatters inhibitions.

And of Cupid’s arrow, flying true to its mission;

urging miles traversed, only love could coerce.

All conscious moments lay still in a last embrace.

The scent of her hair, the glow in her eyes,

For nothing since has given reason to rise.