Today, Tomorrow, Today


Today was once tomorrow,
tomorrow it will be gone,
essence of time is borrowed,
passing as if it were a song.

Slipping through our finger tips,
a constant pace, never to slow,
just a gentle wind upon our lips,
the hourglass continues to flow.

Aging holds no compassion,
each passing day we turn old,
rushing time is all the fashion,
in our ignorance we’re so bold.

Passage of time, a steady force,
reckoning with it, are own way,
realm of reality, a burning torch,
gone with the light of a new day.

Life can be a walk in the park,
as you venture down it’s path,
or bleak moments in the dark,
insecurities of your own wrath.


Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2006, All Audiences