[Inspired by Ruth Ozeki’s A Tale for the Time Being]
We are all time beings,
Beings that are bound and defined by time.
Using milestones as placeholders
For our temporariness.
We tell time as if we have control,
Yet it is time that tells us
Everything we do not want to know.
Thinking time is ours yet the hours make our being.
It is then no wonder that we feel so minute.
We are constantly redefined each passing minute.
As we see the time pass we become alarmed:
I suppose that is why we call it an alarm clock.
Because the truth is, we stop existing,
And time will constantly continue
With our new selves as our
Old selves are left
The person that I was when I began this poem,
Does not have the same hands as the one that inscribes this line,
And the person that I was when I was writing this poem,
Is one that is no more as you are reading this poem.
They all exist in different time zones.
This poem is for a time being.
Being only a part of your time
As you read. Never remaining the same since
You will be a different time being each time you read.
And when the clock stops ticking
It is only your personal reminder
Reminding you that you are
Only a time being
As much as time allows you into being.