May 20, 2021

“The Eyes of Time”: Why we’re Losing Awareness & How to Be Here Now.

Writing is a documented expression of communication— subdivided into self-expression, personal opinion, or observation.

In human society, before the times of personal phones and computers, writing was an art of penmanship. The style of handwriting itself was as unique as the individual. Looking further back—carving on stone tablets or cave walls—evolved into the use of inked pens on paper, which introduced a viable avenue to reach a larger audience.

With the invention of the printing press and typewriters, much of this art within handwritten expression was lost. But the style of personal communication, to this day, still carries the writer’s personal signature, voice, and body language.

Writing does not necessarily need to have a motive, yet with the invention of iPhones, personal computers, and vast social media, writing has often evolved into just pointless rambling for fun, and popularity ratings.

Why I wrote this piece?

Mostly to shed light on the saying “Be Here Now,” although this piece has many hidden philosophical meanings, which can be unveiled by the individual.

Personally, I often like to write in hopes of inspiring others to open the window of their mind and further envision a more unboxed viewpoint. In this philosophical poem, “The Eyes of Time,” I was striving to inspire individuals to plant seeds of personal awareness, open their mind, and strive to think for oneself.

It is always easier to take sides and put yourself into a box—embracing group thinking—but then we sell a piece of our own true self. Where is your mind today?

I wrote this now because it seems many are becoming lazy and losing awareness. This loss of awareness is due in part to distractions, noise, and too much iPhone reliance, along with the gravity of others selling their own personal awareness in trade for popularity, and convenience.


The Eyes of Time

The eyes show what time knows
Along a lonely beach, lovers walk hand in hand
You just wonder if they know where they’re going?
I’m sitting on hillside, writing music for the band
As the future just dreams of life

Yes the eyes show what time knows
Softness becomes shadows, and minds grow

As footprints in the sand tell the story
The eyes of time know where they’re going
Yet here I stay, as moments own glory
No need to count steps of the sun

Yes the eyes show what time knows
And the eyes live where time goes

I have no need to go, because I’m already here
Life is the flow in the eyes she does show
Shadows grow long—the sun melts to the sea…

But stay here, I will
As life wants to be…

The eyes show where tomorrow goes
And the eyes know, why time grows.


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