The sun has not risen yet, the birds are not chirping; the world outside does not know it is almost morning, we still have time. 

Why does it go so fast from us? Always slipping away. For us, we are always chasing another moment, wishing it was the one before. 

We know we can never go back, and we cannot go any faster; yet we still pray that time bends for us just this once.

 

Time is a deviant, it plays tricks on lovers; when they are apart it stretches itself as far as it can so one minute is a million. But when they are together it shrinks itself up until there’s nothing left.

Maybe it is jealous?  Maybe it is lonely? Here from the beginning and here till the end, with no one as constant to company it.

 

Time is as desolate and unforgiving as a dessert; forced to watch every sunrise and sunset alone, to watch lovers dream of one another, to listen to sonnets and musicians play ballads.

Brought here by some unknown power and bound to govern us all; we curse it out for its very nature as well as beg it to obey us.

Yet time is not free like us we get to do as we wish. We get to rise when we want and set when we please.

 

This morning when our sun rises and our birds start to chirp, let’s watch it with time and let it pass without willing it to change. Let’s not wish for more, let’s not beg it to slow down.

The morning will come again for us and we will have our moment once more, because time is precious to us and one day we may have no more.