Time
    is the journey
    we’re forced to take,
    and that we cannot comprehend:
    for we cannot get outside it
    for perspective, neither can we
    get inside it to see how it works.

Still,
    we are always conscious of it,
    buffeting us, and limiting us,
    the signs of its unimaginable scope
    everywhere around us, and
    evidence of its inescapable sway
    in this life heavy on our souls,
    always present, always distsnt,

    although we still try to count it