The Hands of Time

The Hands of Time

How delicately they wind.

They pass—these hands of time
sometimes unnoticed
’til’ alas, we say with a sense
of wonder, “where have the minutes

The hours have cut into weeks
of rushing here and there,
getting this done, a host of
scheduled events, meetings we
masquerade as work
and, now—caught off guard,
we see the years that have
whisked away.

No amount of time will bring the minutes back

BUT, if we can pause each day,
between the ‘tick,’ the ‘tock,’
long enough to allow the hands
of time to hold us,
we can hear the rhythm in
the beating of our hearts.

We can listen to our breath—
in and out

and realize time has always
been on our side.

Round and round we go—

Time never stops and we
can savor the moments, this now,
as it passes

by simply holding ‘hands’ with

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