they say time waits for no one
~
never has there been enough time
to cultivate a sense of fearlessness;
always too much time
to make idols of inspiration
we have remained too young
to say that we live our lives with any grace;
too old to say, this is the end of our allotment
~
after all the hands have been shaken,
all the pages turned, the bellies filled
after all the smiles are spent
and all the comforts acquired,
we sit by the window to watch the colours of our progression
~
some things live out their course
and pass on and away in the height of their glory
but some of us are always green
we wait our turn;
we wait, to turn,
to mature into our very own shade of sienna
~
they say, time waits for no one
but for some, it never comes at all
saara 