~~ No Time ~~

Time is not a river but a sea,
Holding all that was and is to be.
It is the mind that moves across the story,
Racing with the wind upon its glory,
Tracing through the will one's destiny.
Years shimmer in their drowned eternity.
The problem is, of course, identity,
Having the impression that we are free.

The ocean that we live on has no shore.
However far we sail, we reach no end.
Infinity is simply what we see,
Restoring the first meaning of "to be,
"There being only ocean, nothing more.
Yet that is what we cannot comprehend.
None long can bear that god-like ecstasy,
Imagining oneself at being’s core,
Nor long remove the multiplicity
Each mind within itself must apprehend....