Khalil Gibran,
[...] "We measure time according to the movement of countless suns;
and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets.
Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place at the same time?" [...]
time is:
the flapping of wings
set free from the net to go
exploring safer ground
the unknown moment
of a baby mole, catches
sunlight near the creek
bag of tomatoes
waiting left on the door knob
base of homemade soup
©JP/davh
Note these haiku are about the usage of time,
drawn from this much longer post of mine;