NOWHERE
Waiting is the death of Time
Living only when nothing's desired
And the moment its rose is scorned
It becomes an eternal seal.
We create our long footprints
Which are recorded nowhere at all
Space fails to birth its first place
Time is the solitary response
Where all questions must fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Time is a pervasive property of space, yet not understood. Loved the poem. Thanks
I am re-reading A brief history of Time and, as you say, it is not easily understood. I often wonder if it's like God.. either nothing or everything. I'm thinking of doing a series myself so it will be interesting to exchange ideas. Thanks for you comment, Kelly.