It is not an accident
that we talk about spending
our time.
We each have a bank account of hours,
deposited when we were
Russian nesting dolls,
one layer away
from declaring,
as all newborns do,
I am here now,
it can all begin.
And so it did,
landing us where we are now,
all grown up and free
to spend the rest
of this unseeable thing
while never knowing
how much of it
we own.
But don’t let the mystery
of it hold you back.
There is no interest earned
on time unspent,
no way to bank it
like health care benefits
you didn’t use
this year.
Time, such an essential
yet uncomplicated thing,
both invisible and precious,
which is perhaps
the greatest clue
for how we should spend it,
on what cannot be taken away,
on what we can see
only with our hearts.