Time
Cupped in our hands
It lies resting,Our precious gift
We don’t know if it shines
We feel that it does,
No sight, smell, taste
Touch or sound, but
Somehow we feel it is there
We grasp it in our hands
This phantom of a being
And hope we can keep it
Within our sight, though
We see it with no eyes
And within our hands though
It doesn’t touch our skin.
In the run we try to keep up
And when it leaves us behindWe lose with poor grace, but
Some of us are surprised to find
That we are ahead by one step,
Though we know neither of us
Will be outrun for long,
And towards the finish line
Our opponent is beside us
Helping us through our last pace.
Together we win because together
We can’t lose the race of our lives.
Giving us memories that
We treasure, and taking away Others, ready to give them
Back when we need them
Promising us more later,
Providing more for now.
It is these things that cause us
To hold time
And treasure it
In our hands.
Wicked!
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