What Time Teaches

Time is a quiet teacher

it never raises its voice,

never begs to be noticed,

yet somehow,

it is always heard.

 

It slips through our fingers

like water we swore we could hold,

pooling in memories,

dripping into regrets,

evaporating into dreams we swore we’d chase “tomorrow.”

 

Time doesn’t wait

for broken hearts to mend

or for apologies to form on stubborn lips.

It keeps moving

steady, unbothered,

as if it knows something we don’t.

 

Maybe it does.

 

Maybe time knows

that healing isn’t loud

it’s in the mornings

when the weight feels a little lighter,

in the laughter that surprises you

after days of silence.

 

Maybe time knows

that what feels like an ending

is just a door we’re too afraid to walk through,

and every second we survive

is proof

we already have.

 

We measure time in clocks,

in birthdays,

in how long someone stayed

or how quickly they left

but time measures us differently.

 

It counts

every time we chose to keep going,

every tear we didn’t let define us,

every moment we almost gave up

but didn’t.

 

Time is not our enemy,

even when it feels cruel.

It is a mirror,

a witness,

a quiet promise

that nothing

not pain,

not joy,

not even us

stays the same forever.

 

So let it pass.

 

Let it carry away

what was never meant to stay,

and bring you closer

to the version of yourself

you haven’t met yet.

 

Because time

gentle, relentless time

is not taking anything from you.

 

It is

becoming you.