How Much Time Is Left? Poem by Angela Bontle Ditumiso

We seem to be ripening with age
Growing older with every nanosecond
Am I left with 19 hours?
Or is it 30 years?
I have no clue

My days are numbered
Time is running out
Celebrating birthdays
Unaware of the time we've been assigned
Walking boldly towards the day my body we will collapse
And beg for more air

The lower limits and upper limits of time
A time when I was born
And a time when I will reach the extremities of time and expire
Departing so my body will be one with the soil
Six feet under

What will become of my spirit?
Like sand through an hour glass
The number of breaths I'm to take are deducted with every heave of the chest
I'm slowly losing time
While gaining age

With each day I get closer to my death
Walking toward the end of my assigned time
Approaching the upper limits
Yes mathematics has never been this complex
One equation
A different solution set out for each being

I still dream of tomorrow
Ignorant of the fact that I might never greet the break of day
Unwise and unable to number my days
Delaying the will of God

No I still have much to live for
I want to enjoy life first
God can wait until I'm ready
But when will I ever be prepared
Is it the day I'm on my deathbed
Or will I come face to face with death
Before I take up the cross

I deprecate the presence of the Lord
All the while life depreciates
While it could easily appreciate
Simplification of a seemingly complex equation
Gaining value through Christ
Otherwise losing everything to the pits of hell

Substituting worldly pleasures
In exchange for suffering for the sake of Christ
Does life grow sweeter and more valuable with time?
Like an old bottle of red wine
And if it does, what conditions does it have to be subjected to?