The Blend Between Oil and Water

The passage of time works against my every desire to live in the moment; 

The two are akin to oil and water in a glass, refusing to mix. 

Time’s chilly breath hisses down our necks,

each moment a grain of sand slipping through my trembling fingers; 

The hourglass of time is starting to empty. 

Reaching for echoes while grasping onto shadows, 

I realize that the photographs from yesterday are already beginning to crumble under my grasp. 

Past the laughter and cries of present day life, 

lies my desperate clinging to a world that refuses to wait. 

Yet as we watch the seasons change, from spring to autumn to summer and to winter, 

we must accept that we can’t stop the flow of the river, or the growth of petals. 

As moments dissolve into the vast ocean of time, 

there's nothing left for us to do but to watch, 

for life is a tapestry woven with fleeting threads. 

Perhaps, time and life work not as one merged being, 

but rather two separate entities. 

And perhaps, we aren’t meant to fight the stream of time,

but rather drift together with the tides.  

I wonder if the creation of man is truly to live in an utopian world, 

or if it’s to realize that the utopian world that we live in is the one that we shape ourselves. 

Maybe it’s not the material wealth, the shimmers of jewels, or the paint we conceal ourselves with that forms the beauty in life, 

but instead the realization that to live in fear is better than to live in sublimity. 

The mysteries of life are what brings excitement to this journey, 

just like the blend between oil and water.