Poem by Byron Hoot
The first day of a new month
and time says, “Here I am, there
I go” and nothing can be done
about the speed of time
but how deep or shallow it runs
is up to us.
We add to or take away
the value to it.
Even as we say,
“I wish there was more time,”
inherently we know that is not
what we mean – we mean, “I
wish I had given more of myself
in the moments I’ve been in.”
It is the first day of March,
it is Sunday
and time and eternity
the proper supplication
and meditation and benediction
to consider.