Time is like a river. Time flies like an arrow. Time doesn’t stand still. Etc. Etc. Etc. We can only talk about time in metaphors; we can’t quite grasp it and we can never control it. Tick. Tock. Like sands through the hourglass…. So what is present is past is future.
Like a broken statue forgotten in a garden, soon to be forgotten under the green growth, what is old is new again — and reminds us that we can’t stop time. Ashes to ashes. Memento mori:
The sun doesn’t follow savings time; just ask the sundial, which has told the present time for eons. Tempus neminem manet:
Flowers bloom and fade. Bouquets last only a moment, but the seeds fly into the future. Tempore Taraxacam:
Time may fly by quickly, like an arrow. But as Groucho Marx reminded us:
Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.