Lady Time

Her face is pale; thin, strong, implacable. Her eyes, ice blue. Her gaze fixes, but does not see you. Her hair is long and silken – now raven black, now pure white, and every shade between. Her stride is steady – neither fast nor slow, but continuous: adamantly, unstoppably, She continues, Her soft footfalls echo in your mind as She forever moves on. Her gown is long, graceful, trailing delicately behind Her, the ends whispering upon your feet as she forever… moves on.

Stop! You say: Wait! Please wait! But She does not – She cannot – wait. Why should She, for a mere mortal? What are you, to Her who is eternity?
Time! I need more time! If only I had more time… and, for an instant, it looks like Time may pause: She slows, barely, Her head cocked as if listening, as if She heard – but no, her foot falls again to the next step, forever moving on. You must keep up with Her, not Her with you. Occasionally her pace does change – occasionally She does slow, hesitate, pause… and occasionally she hastens, rushing forward, speeding up – for what reason only She knows. Not for your whim, certainly. Not for your pleading – She is not a Goddess to heed prayers, but a force of Her own reckoning and the impact of Her change of pace leaves an indelible mark on us, who must always be in Her presence.

Time: friend, and enemy. Love Her, hate Her – She does not care. An indolent, an insolent, smile upon Her lips as She passes by you, seemingly mocking your meagre thoughts, your paltry prayers.
Time is the friend of children: She grants them eternity in their play, their time to grow, the long summers and endless Christmases, the ability to forget – and maybe forgive – hurts. She gives favour, too, to those in the teenage years: wisdom, out of childhood, without the responsibility of adulthood. The eagerness and ambition of Youth’s Dream – She gives them all this, if only they can recognise it; grasp it; use the gift of Time.
And then… She moves on. You were that child; you were that youth… why should She grant yet more favour to you, the adult? Go with Her wisely – for She will not wait, not ever.

Will you grasp Her hand, and walk side by side with Her, or battle Her, fighting to the bitter end? How can you win? How can you ever win? She is Time, eternal. She does not notice your desperate attempts, your vain ministrations, to turn back the clock.
The mistakes you make are your own – not Hers to rewind. Will you move forward as She does? Or spend your life clinging to the hem of Her gown, attempting to reverse the irreversible?

I will not grow old! I will do everything – everything! – to stay youthful! Time will not beat me! Time smiles – that knowing, cold, impersonal smile – for She knows that there is no beating, no winning – there is only Time. And She marches onward, unstoppably, implacably onward. All the battles, are of course, eventually lost, and you scream, your life a misery, dwelling in lost youth and lost beauty, cursing Time – time and again.
But those who grow old with dignity, who grow old gracefully; looking forward, not back, looking at the time She gave you, and realising the gift She has given you – those who relish the crinkles around their eyes, and what greying hair means; those who understand that time departed is memory, hurt and sore, departed; those are the ones who can look Time in the eye when their Time comes, and as long lost friends greeting each other – those are the ones who can say with pride, as Time grips their hand warmly, the lips now friendly, Her eyes sparkling, seeing you for the first time, as you slip out of Her grip, and it is you who moves forward without Her, with the understanding of Time:
I have won.

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Leave a comment


  1. Wow! Glad you stopped by my blog and I happened to glance at yours…this is magnificent!

  2. Wow! I thought I was good. This is really great. I love it, I remember time seemed slower as a child.

    Thanks for visiting my blog. Much appreciation.

    • Thanks for stopping by. Glad you liked it!
      Yep – childhood just seemed full of endless summers and almost eternal weekends, didn’t it?! I wonder where the ‘time goes’ as an adult… wouldn’t it be great to recapture that child-like sense of time? 🙂

  3. very well written . i enjoyed reading throughout 🙂

  4. Wonderfully written. I enjoyed every beautifully placed word. Jen


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