Time is a line drawn across an empty page

Memory is an ink that only you can see

A line, no sooner drawn, begins to fade

 

What is claimed as a life is upon a stage

All that is seen, like a dream seems to be

Time is a line drawn across an empty page

 

A mere drop of dew begins a river’s rage

All that we are is only what we agree

A line, no sooner drawn, begins to fade

 

This moment now is the one to engage

Memory is root, branch and leaf of tree

Time is a line drawn across an empty page

 

Present is past and future says the sage

Brewed to lull to sleep and dream like a tea

A line, no sooner drawn, begins to fade

 

Attention drawn makes the bars of a cage

Beneath surface is the depth of the sea

Time is a line drawn across an empty page

 

What’s seen is facade, only what we agree

What’s seen is forms of possibility

Time is a line drawn across an empty page

A line, no sooner drawn, begins to fade

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