The Clock Inside Poem by Kali Kaivalya

OPENING REFLECTION:


There is a curious shift that unfolds quietly as we age—

a soft but undeniable sensation that time is slipping past us more swiftly than before.

What once felt expansive and brimming with possibility now seems to blur into routine and repetition.

Yet this isn't mere wistfulness; it's a real, measurable shift in how we perceive time.

In youth, life is saturated with novelty, and every new experience leaves behind a vivid imprint, stretching our sense of days and years.

But as the novel becomes familiar, and the unfamiliar rare, our internal clock begins to tick faster, not in seconds but in sensation.

This reflection explores not only why time feels quicker with age but also how we might gently reclaim its breadth through attention, experience, and mindful presence.



THE CLOCK INSIDE


Time is not a thief—

more a mirror, subtly askew.

Each year, the added weight

of who we've grown to be

tilts the reflection.



As children,

life spills open in vast chapters.

Each "first" looms—

a peak to conquer.

Every hour brims, a boundless sky.

Summer stretches

like an unspooling ribbon of sun,

each day a distinct, gleaming bead.



But later—

routine settles in,

a quiet, gray circling.

Wonder gives way

to the ruled lines of a calendar.

Discovery recedes

into the trodden path of repetition.

And time,

like a riverbed smoothed of its stones,

slips faster, unseen, beneath our feet.



The future shrinks—

not in distance,

but in depth of meaning.

A year, once a whispered marvel,

now barely the flick of an eye.

This is memory's bargain:

the mind hoards its treasures—

those golden years

when everything

held the shock of newness,

and our eager hearts outpaced us,

longing only to glimpse what lay ahead.



Yet still, we hold a quiet power:

a walk down an unfamiliar road,

a taste that stirs the tongue awake,

the profound silence of listening

with undivided attention—

these can stretch an instant,

make it gleam

like light caught in colored glass.



Time, it turns out,

has a hidden elasticity,

revealed when we are fully present,

attuned to its unfolding.

To truly live

is to slow time—

not in ticking seconds,

but in the sudden,

illuminating sparks of being.



CLOSING REFLECTION:


Though we cannot halt time's steady march, we can choose how we walk with it.

In a world increasingly defined by routines and deadlines, there exists a quiet strength in slowing down and approaching each moment with openness.

By seeking out new experiences, even in the smallest forms, and by practicing awareness in the everyday, we stretch the fabric of time, allowing life to feel fuller, longer, more alive.

The richness of time, then, is not found in its length, but in the depth with which we live it.