Melancolic time

Sometimes I stop to think about time,

But time is still passing while I stop to think.

It's always carrying the beautiful forces of nature to their final destination.

Like the fleeting drops of rain, surfing at the carriage of Mother Gravity.

Like the rustling leaves sometimes falling throughout by the eletromagnetic hug of the wind.

Like our beating heart, and every other universe that keep it's balance and consistency by the most powerful, the most Strong Force.

Sometimes, when someone ask me about religion, I stop to think about those things, and how divine it is.

There are so many beautiful things to see, so many beautiful things to understand, so many beautiful things to feel.

But yet, time's still flowing...

And our time's ending since it's very beginning.

So, I stop to think:

Is it really worth to stop?

And so I breath, and so I start to feel,

The everflow of... what?

Oh, of me.