I see it in every wrinkle
In every wilting flower
In every cracked stone
Every second of the hour

Something that isn't there, but was
To which all things are bound
Something anyone can lose
But only few have found

The universal measure
A tick that doesn't bite
Nothing can dodge its warm embrace
Not even day and night

Always there and never not
Though it holds no shape or form
I sit and watch the clouds gather
The calm before the storm