Lost Time

Lost Time by Rabindranath Tagore 

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.

It goes to say, that even if we may not be moving, the world does not stand still and in a blink of an eye our condition may change.

Source: Famous Poets and Poems  
              Rabindranath Tagore (1861 -1941)
Image From:  Acclaim Images
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