One wonders why Time hastens so
For where on earth has it to go
Is it moving, is it still
Does it wander where it will
Must it bow to Holy writ
Does a lover beckon it
Can it hear those different drums
Or from whence the sounding comes
Do echoes eternally
Live on in its memory
Can we count it by the sands
Does God make it with His hands
Can He take a single day,
Molding it like earthen clay
Can we feel it when we wake
Is it ours to steal, to break
Must we make much of our own
Ere Time leaves us cold, alone


(c) 2002 Kh’wyn.  Do not copy or redistribute without permission.