Time Ticking By

Clock time being adjusted

The monotony of the day’s lagging nature.
Cycles upon endless cycles
of rote motions
and predictable outcomes.
It begins.
It ends.
The ticking clock stares you in the face.
Tricking you.
Time fools us all.
Tomorrow never comes
And yesterday is always gone.
Everyday is another day we will eventually forget.
Days sneak past us.
Disguised by tedium.
Our hours,
Our days,
Our lives,
dissolve in the air.
We become so lost in the pace of everyday.
And we allow the clock to continue it’s ticking
Until it’s time for our ticking to stop.

Image Credit toย 

35 thoughts on “Time Ticking By

  1. I love this one!

    “Cycles upon endless cycles
    of rote motions
    and predictable outcomes.”


    I wrote something similar about cycles but it was more focused on karma hahaha, I’ll upload it if I find it.

    Have a nice weekend, Blair!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I hope my comment is not too forward. Firstly, great piece, and even greater title. However, I believe the past does not exist. Think about it for a second with an open mind. We can change our present, and in changing it we can determine our future should life work out as planned, and most of the time – never does. Nevertheless, routines of our past do exist however. Keeping our daily lives in the ‘endless cycle’ or constant loop. I also believe that time does not really exist, in a sense that it references the past more than it does the future. Hope that makes a tiny little bit of sense. If it ‘existed’ in the present or future, we’d be able to change it as we think we do while in the process of remembering. But hey, that’s my opinion, thoughts and beliefs.

    Great blog by the way.


  3. Good piece though I think our perception of time is coloured by what we’re doing with it and our emotional states. Thanks for checking me out. ๐Ÿ™‚ Chevvy.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Another response. You’re inspirational. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Hot to cold, cold to hot,
    Light to dark, dark to light,
    Suddenly a seed cracks as the ice melts,
    sending a brilliant green shoot up through the soil,
    reaching for the rising warmth of a Spring day,
    as season progresses and the right time comes.

    Leaves spread,
    first strawberries,
    then weeds,
    mints in pace with those,
    oregano reclaiming its own as lemon balm lags behind,
    a world of life waking up once more
    as time continues its ancient march to eternity.

    Suddenly the cherries are blooming,
    a blizzard of pink and white petals
    out of time with everything,
    rejoicing at the very beginning and gone before the other trees
    even have a clue.

    What is this to you?

    Far overhead the moon arcs,
    cataloging nights with the steady sweep of the Earthโ€™s shadow across its reflecting face,
    and further up the sun spins,
    its blazing touch coming in
    a little different with each day,
    as the blue world with its moon pulled tides
    hand in gravitic hand
    around the brilliant center of its system
    its path almost
    but not quite
    a circle.

    And further still,
    the planets,
    the stars,
    the galaxies,
    an intricate spread of blazing lights,
    rushing out like sparks from a single firework,
    with an arc far greater than us ants can understand,
    yet with a definite beginning
    and a promised end.

    What is this to you?

    Deep in our own chests
    our heart beats,
    each beat a pulse of blood
    all that we would begin,
    the first beat starting eighteen Earth-rotations in,
    and the last ending us an unknown number further on,
    and between them
    the growth of bone and skin,
    the learning of a brain,
    the forming of our soul,
    and the working of our hands.

    What is this to you?

    You have heard,
    โ€œto each thing a time,
    and a time to each purpose.โ€

    You have heard,
    โ€œThere is nothing new
    under the sun.โ€

    The cycles run,
    endless until they end,
    raising from dust
    and rotting to dust
    a thousand generations of every living thing.

    What is this to you
    who shall end as this is true?
    What more is there that can possibly be done,
    than to run
    a course that has already been run,
    and was old before your ancestorโ€™s ancestor
    had even begun?
    Know it for what it is,
    enjoy it for what it is,
    and you will change it none.

    What is this to you?

    Have you felt the Earth quake beneath your hands with longing,
    or heard the trees wonder in the blowing wind?
    Have you seen the promise on the changing skies,
    and smelled the hope at the winterโ€™s end?

    A little bird told me his dreams,
    and a silence whispered a mysterious thing,
    a child saw a change that is coming,
    and the space between heartbeats echoed
    a song too joyful to sing.

    Have you heard the words they bring?


    I am making new all things.โ€


  5. Like number 100! Great piece – an idea a lot of people (myself included) have tried to capture at some stage (usually bored at work for me!) and this is amongst the best I’ve seen ๐Ÿ™‚ so pleased you found my blog (I assume through your mate Alice – congrats on dragging her onto wordpress) and thus that I’ve found yours!

    Liked by 1 person

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