Limits- A poem

Can anyone really have a concept of time?

I don’t think time can be caught,

But slips, ever elusive, just out of reach.

We have put bounds on time,

As we do to anything we cannot comprehend.

Hemming it in.

Giving it a border.

An end, and a beginning.

Really, we have only seen,

A blade in the field of grass.

Limitless.

Unending.

But as we are,

With death,

And life.

We believe all things have a cut-off point.

The end of the line.

How long is a piece of string?

When does pi end?

What is Infinity?

Even as we give it a name,

We confine it.

Infinity.

8 letters long.

Time.

4 letters.

Held in by our inability to see the big picture.

The infinite picture.

That stretches limitless,

Past all human comprehension.

And into the unknown.

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