Father Time

How can someone make fifteen minutes fly by when it feels like there is an eternity between each tick of the second hand on the clock?

Why does fifteen minutes pass before you can barely think of blinking-- and you're practically begging, "Just One more minute, Please!"

What is this mystery that we call Time? Why does it tease us in too brief moments of pleasure? Why does it drag on endlessly in our moments of grief?

One minute can feel like three days.

An hour may barely feel like a second...

But each drop of sand that falls from the hourglass, of our breath of a life, reminds us-- even begrudgingly-- that we are only Human.

We must learn patience when we have none because Father Time continues on at the pace that He chooses.

It's up to us to follow in His shadowy footsteps.

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