time sifts through our hands
fading stars and wild flowers
difficult to count
Kim M. Russell, 23rd September 2018
My response to Carpe Diem’s Weekend Meditation #51 Tagore’s ‘Endless Time’
Today we are being reminded that time flies as well as taking a quick trip back in time with a poem by Tagore, from which we must try to capture the essence in a haiku or tanka:
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.
© Rabindranath Tagore