The sands of time are running
Through my hourglass,
Telling me I don’t have much time –
Taking away my time as sure
As any hands on a clock;
And I can’t get the speed to stop;
Neither my heart that goes
Pitter-pat like raindrops
On the window pane of my life;
And like the pain in my soul
That’s running down my cheeks
Like teardrops on a window glass —
Or the glasses I look out from.

And I wonder what is wrong
And why my time
Won’t stop running away with me
And from me —
Hard as I try to catch up with it —
Get with it — not behind it.
It’s synonymous with
Life’s impermanence,
Which I also want to stop
But cannot control
Any more than the sands running
Through the hourglass
Of my life … or my door-stop.

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