-Anvita Dharma

The fabrics of time are like a silky material.
Once it's gone, it's gone.
It slips through my hands and falls so effortlessly on the floor.
It plops down
Restless.
I try and try and ache and ache to pick it up.
Just to feel its soft warmth on my skin again but too late.
It has fallen, it is still falling.
I tilt my head back and see it is falling deeper and deeper.
It is getting later and later.
When will it ever stop escaping my grasp?
When does time ever stop falling?
It slips from grasp just out of my reach.
Just a bit too late.
When will it ever harden?
When will time freeze and when will it be in my grasp again?
I can feel the heat rising.
The tension is boiling.
The silk is almost at my finger tips.
Once again I feel its warmth enlighten my hand.
It sits in my palm ever so elegantly,
Just waiting to fall.
Waiting to be lost.