Dawning Creations

Time was spent.
Time was earned.
Time is a fake.

You’re living in a fog.

Time makes no difference, until you’re missing someone.
You watch them keep walking, growing, and moving forward.

Time makes no difference until you’re staring into that casket, realizing you had the world within your grasp, true hope held in their hand.

Time makes no difference, isn’t choosey.

Is time a fake?

I couldn’t abhere to your will.
I couldn’t let you in enough to miss you.
Now I’m doing just what I sought not to.

I thought these words were for someone else, plugged into my brain like some secret message from God, a friend or a lover.

No.

Is time a fake?

If I took that to be true would it have kept you here longer or have left me more aloof?

This truth is a bund breaking atlas, endeavoring to lead me to accept more and lose less.

Time is real like your heartbeat was.
Time is those moments spent talking about birds and lessons learned.
Time is the smell of your coffee, that tiny mug you held so tight.
Time is the sound of the kettle, your boiling water beckoning you to join.
Time is the countless hours you spent playing rummy with uncle Matt and golfing and being a loving grandad.

When I’m still, I realize your time was a gift.