The Hourglass

What might have been but wasn't, we all have writings in this book. Our tears collect in bottles marked with, "Grief," because our look was in the wrong direction, our time was spent elsewhere. We forgot to listen closely, didn't say the words, "I care." If we'd known someone was needing, we would have helped them ease their pain. But we didn't. Now we suffer from thoughts we still retain within our souls, which are now bent over from the shame. We feel like bartering with the wind to quiet this relentless blame and guilt. We need to climb above these thoughts, not mourn them as they pass. If someone calls, we'll answer; we'll refill the hourglass.