LOST TIME

Published May 17, 2012 by aquaturtleme

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. 

But it is never lost, my lord. 
Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands. 

Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, 
buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness. 

I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed 
and imagined all work had ceased. 


In the morning I woke up 
and found my garden full with wonders of flowers. 

– A simple poem by Rabindra Nath Tagore, which was a great relief, to a guilty feel of being too lazy

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