Time, the ghost
we befriend
hoping
it visits often
Time, we lose
befriending phantoms
slipping through fingers, grasping
disconnected grains of sand
Time, we expect
will bring life
instead, life we lose
grasping at time
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Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Kosmos Consulting and Research website: https://www.donaldiannone.com/
Visual Advantage Photography website: http://www.visualadvantagephoto.com
Flickr Photo Page here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/don-iannone
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
View all posts by Don Iannone, D.Div.
Poetic Alchemist 
Let’s see…
oh yeah…
it sure does slip away, don’t it?
what’s time anyway… i wonder…
Thanks Andrew and Kai. Appreciate your comments.
beautiful:)
For some reason, time has really been on my mind recently — this poem says it all.