The Fleeting of Time

Like liquid gold you pour through my bedroom window, tossing sunbeams playfully against the wall. Kicking back the covers, I jump out of bed, determined to keep up with you today.

My morning coffee urges me outside.

To sit on the deck.

To watch the birds.

To feel your warm, gentle breeze.

To capture your tender, fleeting moments.

It seemed, that as a child sitting behind a rickety old school desk, you shuffled along like an old man. And I felt bored and restless and wishing you would hurry up so I could go home and play.

And at the work place I was always daydreaming.

Always hoping for a better tomorrow.

Always hurrying you along.

But, that was a long time ago.

When I thought I had you locked  in a box.

When I Thought I was forever in control.

Now, it seems you barely peep your blazing head above the horizon when you’re pulling down the dark shade of night. When, like a fleeting bird, you fly and disappear into the abyss, never to be seen again.

And I realize that you hold the key to the box.

That I must never again take you for granted.

That I must grasp your every fleeting moment for as long as I shall live.

~ Sandi

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