Time in life seems often fleeting And yet in truth it is ever present. It is not time that is fleeting, But ourselves We gaze at the beyond Paralyzed in some imaginary fear of unknown And we neglect to find ourselves in the moment. Defiantly we cast the blame on time, That time has sped somehow as we have aged, But time is still the thing it was to us as children: Still and present. What has been lost is an appreciation for the moment, A focus on the next to bring us What we feel is missing in the now. (c) 2019 Jeremy Redinger.