A huge heavy rock
I had carried all along
Weighed down, weary
Often, not knowing how to carry, or
Put it down…
But lost time is a chisel
Grey hairs are not just reminders of age, but
Of the lost time, youth, energy, and love
Of the fresh tender years…
Lost time, is a feeling, “A huge portion of myself,
Scooped out of my soul, and
Am falling into my own emptiness…
Caught in my own labyrinth…”
But lost time is a Mallet
Photo by Rezoana Amin Rayna from Pexels
I sighed Often
“I couldn’t blossom in the garden of my choice
I wanted to grow like a tree in full bloom, in a forest…
My roots ache, unable to stretch and spread inside a pot!…”
But lost time is a sculptor
Amid all the chaos
I learned to land in love with the NOW
Heart replenished with gratitude, hope
Reassured my wings, “it is never too late”
To fly, choose your own Sky…
Lost time, is a Mentor
If sarcasm had a face, it was mine, for
All the nit-pickers Naysayers Mockers
Smirk, the only response I gave…
My soul shined brighter
From all the fire of courage within
From all the stars of hope, pinned on my dreams
Lost time, is the coal becoming diamond
All the canopies of love I walked under
Showered fragrant blossoms
From life’s gentle hands that healed
Each petal smiled as they knew
What I longed for
More reasons, to smile along the way…
Lost time, is the sculpture of hope
The universe transformed me into…
I am the lost time
Rolled into Now
A happier soul, harvesting poems…
Also Read:
- The bridge between their souls…
- Let’s meet over a cup of coffee…
- Winter Cuddle…
- Flurries, and frostbites…
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