The bird of Time sat on a branch. <br />I thought to clip her wings, and so <br />I climbed upon her back — alas, <br />the bird took flight again, and now <br />I'm at the far end of my life. <br /> <br />She lighted there of her free will. <br />How foolish I was then, to think <br />that I could stop, or slow, her flight, <br /> <br />and yet, that time, when Time sat still — <br />how sweet it was — how sweet.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/35-time-a-meditation/
