In the blindness of time,
The days mark corridors.
Hours divide the darkness,
Seasons segment the calendar-
Instant by instant, our time
Trickles into the sieve,
Of the allotted space:
If thoughts were the measure
Of everlastingness,
Some of us would never die;
Some would never be born at all.
But there is always time enough
To reach from the beginning
To the very end.
Time Enough
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