There will be time

I’ve always had too much on my mind. Too much to do. Too little time.

When i was small, if i couldn’t play, if my mother had me seated in front of her lecturing me and making me practice proper “ladies” ways; i was constantly worried, fidgeting about the tick tock clock that was running. Surely, there was a better use of my time.

After all, i had so much energy. Energy i was dying to use; touch, love, run, play, discover, create magic and explore the world. There was a constant restlessness that i would never be able to do enough.

I remember when i read the love song of J Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot. I did not understand.

And indeed there will be time    
There will be time, there will be time    
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;    
There will be time to murder and create,    
And time for all the works and days of hands    
That lift and drop a question on your plate;           
Time for you and time for me,    
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,    
And for a hundred visions and revisions,    
Before the taking of a toast and tea. 

For the first time, when i met my husband i understood. But only for a while.

And now, i am in a place where there is time. And there is not.

For all  magic i dared create. And to feel with pulsating life everything beneath my palm and beyond. In far away places, where i would go, with strength and awe. And feel the beauty of being young.

I wish for my energy back. I wish for the force which is life, with which i want to live my life.

I wish for my youth, in my youth.