Time Poem by Paul Butters

Oh Time you trouble me.
You’re always on the move,
So Death can come too soon.

Without you, though, we never
Would be here to live this life.
Yes, nothing can exist
Without your all-pervading presence.

They say your mother was
The Big Bang:
From nothing, a singularity,
You emerged.

So now you keep on going,
Remorselessly bringing
A seemingly endless cycle
Of Life and Death.

Can we travel through you?
Nobody knows.
Will you ever die?
Perhaps when the Universe has spread
Too thin.

One thing’s for sure.
Dear Time, we never can
Ignore you.