The Cycle of Moments

The wristwatch rhythm Time ever moving today has past Yesterday, weeks, months, years…all has faded The moment exists but finitely and soon it perishes What I am withers Memories fade to slowly forgotten All existence grows, vigor, youthful…withering gray What is now to what has been to passing away Holding fast to ideas Erecting monuments to yesteryear steadfast Into magnificence, goodness, myth…its time arrives It lapses into legend of today’s values, then nothing What truly exists? All things blissful in loving, and breaking, and nothing Cyclical of seasons, life, growth, reminisce…and tears For even the greatest things have come to past Less a truth of love…