It’s time, time, time… this murmur is what I fear most. Click to listen

Early this morning I watched the clouds in the west drift up like smoke, curling skyward — it reminded me of the scene where Mcdull’s mother is cremated, that slowly rising plume of black smoke. Aging, oh, aging. I can’t deny you’re a natural process, and I can hardly change the fact that I’m just another product on this same assembly line — but I still resent you. When we’re young we don’t know what it means to grow old; once grown, we fear growing old; only in old age do we finally accept it.

The Big Bang produced the universe, and the universe is still expanding, so the world is in motion. Because of that motion, time arose — or so it would seem? Einstein said that moving at, or even beyond, the speed of light would make time stand still, even turn it backward. So, chasing after sunlight — could that make a person young again?