time has slowed
the tic pauses eternally before it's next tock.
And time is hers.
She rises and falls with the swoon of the tide.
Her mission is certain
not bound by time.
As the world continues
so fast, so hurried.
The calendar days are ripped and thrown.
And contently, she breaths.
Calm, at peace.
Her purpose is clear
Her life is her mission.
Time cannot bind her.
To love, to give, to teach, to act.
These missions are not slaves to the clock.
But rather, masters.
And when she wakes at her own pace,
She need not worry about the time.
For her breath, her touch, her voice,
her talent, her gifts, her hugs,
her sharing.
These are why she is here.
And hurried she is, no more.
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