Dive In

"For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity" — The Screwtape Letters

sometimes I am overwhelmed by time,
the gift of it
the weight of it
priceless glimmering in my hands
time with my children, time with my friends
time listening to my husband breathe
as I battle to sleep
time to sooth and play and sing and cry
time to catch the light in my laughter lines
time for rooibos tea on a lazy tongue
time for sport and sweat and heaving lungs
time for cooking with the help of little hands
time for bedtime books and midnight hushes
time for resounding clashes of will
time to lie exhausted on the orange carpet—
the day not even half done
time to meet a smile with another,
spreading like spring over barren cheeks.
time
I watch as it spills from my palms
so slow I don’t notice, unless
I pause
to watch the light refracted by rivulets
listen to the gentle splashing
of the present into the infinite
I know I can’t close my hands and hold it 
tighter, safer
and so I dive into my days
immersed in the gift
of living  
 

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