Poem: Hands of Time

‘Beautiful lazy morning. Now I have no choice but to go work lol’ A friend said.

So… here we go.

Poem: HANDS OF TIME

Image by M. Harris from Pixabay

Work is a means for bare necessities
Or what we bear for necessities
I love being lazy for I own my time
Yet being lazy is a privilege
Because the bare necessities
Need me to work.

To work means I lose my time
My hands are tied to work
But the hands of time aren’t tied
Free to move second by second
Minute by minute and hour by hour.

Should I envy this freedom time has
For it could be lazy, pause for a moment
Yet it plows on, as an untiring soldier
A work that has neither end nor rest.

I realize that time is its own slave
And a relentless master
How much I feel better to realize
That my hands are free to rest
When I want them to.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2022