As time it turns the river flows
a destined dawn approaches
-Dante Carmelo Cullari
Poets speak of time as flowing like a river winding past trees, over waterfalls, merging with the ocean. Maybe, after all, this may not be so wrong, partly anyway. I find myself, at rare times lying awake late in the night, or early in the morning alone with my thoughts. And just what is it that occupies my sleepless mind when Morpheus abandons me in the dark? Time. Not that red faced tormentor flashing its red eyes at me, reminding me of the hour of the evening that I lay there sleepless. It is Time that consumes my time, trying with my mechanically inclined mind to ferret out times enigma. And as time, it turns, a destined dawn approaches. Morpheus, your cruel abandonment is the wellspring of many a thoughts.
