The Hands of Time Point ---

As the clock continues to move forward; Seconds to minutes, then hours to days. The time allows more thought of beyond, What lies ahead and how many ways. This journey is often prepared by reflection, Looking at history to judge the events. As verdicts remain part of the ledger, That contains few dollars and less sense. Just as those have traveled before me, Our lifes' affairs become a burden elsewhere. When family or friend begin making decisions, Between life and death and how much to care. It is here in these later chapters when Many more questions arise of an afterlife. Because no matter the amount of early lessons, One's faith labors on to a midwife. At this point my questions see direction, As if gravity shows the way up or down. To where sudden signs light up the roadway, And heaven or hell expose a smile or frown. These efforts fail to offer a conclusion, As to any ultimate or final resting place. So as long as the clock keeps on ticking, I'm resolved to go on laughing in its face. While this delay may upset a grand father, My time will continue to populate only the earth. Where my hands can control the hourglass, and Those of time must patiently await my rebirth.