Dr. Raghavendra Kumar Tripathi—
Time, aged further today,
Flows on its endless way.
Time, so unique, it seems to glide,
While moments pass, and lives reside.
In truth, time does not stride,
It’s we who journey, side by side.
We shape ourselves, with every breath,
Not time’s harsh cart, but life and death.
We count the years, in endless quest,
Yet time’s true nature finds no rest.
This human soul, with striving hand,
Can’t grasp the flow, or understand.
How hold what’s ever in its flight?
In grasping, we lose inner light.
Time’s measured beat, a fleeting sound,
For creatures free, no chains are bound.
Time’s subtle dance, a silent art,
If held in grasp, we’d miss the heart.
We’d lose the grace, the sacred space,
To find the divine, in time’s embrace.
