Time passes in review,
like a celestial rhythm meted out on a cosmic metronome.
Some say it's linear in process, others declare it to be cyclical...
I only know it passes in phases, sometimes its run is spent much too quickly,
or even a slow and leisurely pace.

It is the bus pass we never purchased...with each route subsuming the former.
Time has no face, other than our own...showing the years and scars that pass and heal.
If the future is tentative, then surely time is its catalyst....
establishing limits to every endeavor and every moment.

Time still holds the cosmic trump card, while hiding its secrets from
behind a pirate's smile.

Running its course, we participate only as silent partners...
Each of us destined to our own fate by the constructs of a benign
entity....we call "Time".





Gregory S.