Perhaps time is the keeper of distance and loss,
Knowing that we are but able for a little at a time.
And the innocence of fragments is wise with us,
Keeps us from order that is not native to our dust.
Yet, without warning, a life can sudenly chance
On its hidden rhythm, find a flow it never knew.
Where the heart was blind, subtle words rise into view;
Where the mind was forced, crippled thought begins to dance.
As if the day found for her everything she lost.
Her breath infused with harvest she never expected
From the unlived lives she had only touched in dream;
Her mind rests; memory glows in a stairs of twilight.
Her hair kisses the breeze. Her eyes know it is time.
She looks as y0ung as the evening the raven came.
(O'Donohue)
My Mom just passed away.
It was her time, she was ready.
R.I.P.
Mine too

'To every thing there is a time'
To every season there is a rhyme.
Time goes on with a relentless pace
Our lives are spent before we erase
Those dark secrets of the mind
Those secrets we want to leave behind.
To the human race, much time is given,
For each to choose by what he's driven.
Yet, each of us has so many days,
We cannot add to this life's maze.
To buy one hour may be our goal,
It's still the truth...
... ...no time is sold.
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Once I could catch your eye across the room
And know just what you were thinkin'
And when I held you in my arms, we'd dream as one
But those days are gone, somethin' went wrong
And when I wake up to the mornin' sun I find myself sayin'.
Time, don't run out on me,
don't run out on me,
don't run out on me.
Time, don't run out on me.
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