What is time?
Is it just countless years
Of sun and moon and tide
In pace with the earth?
Is it the calendar on your wall,
Reminding of next week’s board meeting,
Or the vacation you have been so long waiting for?
Is it the clock,
Which marks the beginning of a new day,
Or even the sundial, placed neatly in your garden?
Or is it merely a shadow in the night
At loss in an universe so great,
So mysterious,
Yet so open?