This is my interpretation of my recent poem i titled "i hate time.I recently found myself frustrated by time—having so much to do, yet never having enough of it.
Some things require patience, but time itself is never patient. It doesn't wait for us to finish. It simply keeps moving.
That frustration became this poem. And i will proceed to make it a sculptural artwork.
SKETCHING PROCESS
I HATE TIME
I hate time,
because lies reign before the truth is revealed,
and pleasure won't last long before it disappears.
I hate time,
because it requires patience but is never patient,
and tomorrow never reveals itself.
I hate time,
because it grows old;
beauty fades,
and youthful strength grows weak.
Yet I love it still,
because wisdom grows where beauty and strength surrender,
and there is a night after every working day.
And I love it still,
because wounds eventually heal,
and there is tomorrow
if today isn't fulfilled.
And I love it still,
because the cross looked like defeat on Friday
but became victory on Sunday,
and repentance is still possible
while we have breath.
— A reflection on time, patience, and the things we cannot control.
💬 Closing
Did any line or feeling linger with you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.