Zaman: The Ocean of Time

A friend of more than fifty years gave me an old clock.

The clock is 130 years old.

It sits in my study like an altar to time,

What changes and what does not.

The wave that washes up on the shore and returns to the sea whence it came.

Time advances and recedes. 

While it gets always later, it leaves something on the shore of memory that never washes away.

When it leaves us and reverts back to the great sea of time, we know the wave will return

And find us the same and different.

Time is constant, it doesn’t go away, but is a great paradox.

The paradox is that it is transitory and constant.

We consume time and are consumed by it.

A wave and an ocean that sweeps over us.

But isn’t all truth a paradox?

When we truly know, we don’t know.

When we truly see, we don’t see.

When we struggle to master time,

It subtly masters us.

But time is a gift and also the wave that bears it away.

When we ask for more time,

It is like telling the sea that we need more water.

You are immersed in time, but will never hold it in your hand.

You may have time but you never own it.

Time was before us and after us.

And we stand before the altar of time

Without words.