Posted here for June 19, 2023.
The road back home
Passing Moments II
. . .Fred Gielow
I watch the seconds on my clock.
. . .They slowly slip away.
And then the minutes, then the hours.
. . .Finally, a day.
The time is gone, forever gone,
. . .Lost to eternity,
Those seconds, minutes, hours, that
. . .So gently glide past me.
And it is sad and dreary
. . .If I choose to look that way.
And view that time as missing, lost,
. . .Just moments gone astray.
I must not mourn those seconds gone,
. . .Nor pay them any heed.
That time has served its purpose.
. . .It has filled a vital need.
But now, the vital seconds are
. . .Those seconds yet to come.
For moments in the future,
. . .We should sing and beat a drum.
The mysteries that lie ahead,
. . .The intrigue and unknown,
The grand surprises that await,
. . .That so soon shall be shown.
All life is one unrav'ling scroll,
. . .Its twists and turns obscured,
Until that moment they're revealed,
. . .And history's secured.
So, let the seconds scurry by
. . .And let them fade away.
But live them to the fullest,
. . .'Til your final, dying day.