What is time?
Snow falling so softly
it barely moves, perhaps even
pauses for just a moment
holds its breath
- and that of ours -
time stops, and then
the snow tenderly moves on.
Time counts the beats
of our hearts
and measures the moments
of our minds.
Each thought
gives and takes time,
and it all matters.
Thoughts flow into
the blood
like light into a window
giving meaning, and hope,
and vision.
The snow shall fall,
the sun shall rise,
time will continue;
all things move onward
into a future yet unknown,
but time, will show all.
What is time?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
At times, we wish we could erase it, repeat it, hold it forever and really live it. Then there are times when you are sure you have been there before. Great write Smoky. Thank You
Thank you very much Lyn.