Shifting Shades

Time has neither beginning nor end, an eternity.
It has neither width nor breadth, an infinity.
Our stint in Time is but a flint: finite, phantom!
The tint varies as we sprint across the spectrum.
We glint from new mint to old lint; from firm to frail
Our print we leave; footprint-tracks mark our trail
Between end-to-end, the specter of reality
Is shifting shades; amidst eternity.

(c) Chito L. Aguilar