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…
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