Only Time
Warped in threads, entangled in the tresses of time,
You race against yourself.
Sometimes climbing high, falling low.
Threads warped around your arms, reaching out, gripping you, failing you.
Calling you, falling you.
Missing trains of time,
Each moment laments the death of the previous.
You wait patiently.
Is it time yet?, you ask.
You long patiently, is it tied yet?
Time it speaks loudest in its silent ticks.
Threads weaving the tapestry of life,
Each moment, woven unto another.
Set loose, the threads resolve themselves,
Fight them, and they clutch you, not letting loose.
Time, the silent of them all,
In its warp and weft, weaving moments,
Until this tapestry is done,
And until you can marvel at this magnificent creation of its loom,
Until time itself holds still for you to behold its glory!