Time is an ocean. [poem]

I think I am beginning to understand time.
It is not linear, it is not finite.
No, time is an ocean that bleeds into smaller waters,
rivers and streams that branch out into valleys
and even through mountains.

It can flow west and east at the same time.
It can both come and go.

The you of before recognizes me here and now
but I have yet to catch up with the me I am now.
You flow through me, endlessly reinvented,
but your eyes are the same blue skies
the bluest blue I’ve ever seen.