Oh to time that marches steadily on

Oh to time that marches steadily on
So march these days
And Seasons
And moments of time

So many things we share
In these brief bits of time
Do we know how precious
Each one
Truly is

Whether, short or long
Each one we tarry on
Do we truly know that what is here
Tomorrow will be gone
What we have glanced upon
Now move we from
To another that's just begun

We've only the one
To cherish
Now
Each in its part
Has it's measure
In this art

So tender
So troubled
Can we be
May we open wide
Our eyes
To this mystery
For though
We see
Only through
A thin glass
Alas it only holds
What it reflects
It cannot share more

So look we not so long
To the future
As if to merit
This moment now
But rather somehow
May we live these moment
Here and now
And so set a course
Toward what may be
Our future days

But may we not be caught in
Its gaze
Or sing so oft of it's feeble praise
These are the days
These are the days
In which we live

So may we measure them
By what we give
Of ourselves
Each breath
Each beating heart
Is but a part
Of this glorious
Work of art

-Joshua Lee Foist