No time to breathe, no time to rest,
The clock commands, we do our best.
The sun leaps up, the day is gone,
Another night, another dawn.
No time for dreams, no time for play,
Just rushing through the hours each day.
The seconds drip, the minutes race—
We chase them down, we lose the chase.
But still a heartbeat, quiet, deep,
Whispers truths we rarely keep:
That time is ours, or so we claim—
Until it runs us, just the same.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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