The Shifts of Time
A pocket full of smooth, round
stones,
A beetle crawling in the grass,
The tallest tree that I can climb,
And watching fluffy clouds
pass.
A secret kept by my best friend,
The perfect song to clear my
head,
A locked diary beneath the
floor,
And all the words left unsaid.
A quiet house before the dawn,
The monthly rent paid right on
time,
A steady hand to hold my own,
And mountains I still hope to
climb.
The health of those I love the
most,
A peaceful night of restful
sleep,
The quiet joy of letting go,
And memories I get to keep.
The warmth of sun upon my
face,
A rocking chair, a cup of tea,
A long and winding story told,
And knowing they'll remember
me.
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