Precious time--so evasive and quick, passes by-
Hanging so heavily from a slate-gray sky;
Or will even glow on a warm Spring day,
as the weeks run together from Fall to May.

The hours of the day seem to disappear,
the clock ticks and the day moves on;
Brightening our moments, year to year--
memories recalling the smiles and tears.

Ahead--the unpredictable future days,
when we question our existence, expose
our fears--the wandering mind turns silent,
as we seek comfort from the One Who Knows.

Our Mother-Moon always answers our prayers,
through inspiring emotions, heartfelt signs;
While time relents an aging paradigm,
and wasting it all would surely be a crime.