the Hour of time

every day is an hour
as the world turns us by
an hour of waiting
too soon we will cry

that hour by hour
becomes day by day
where has it gone
why has time gone away?

as every day is a speck
in the sand of all time
it is but an accent
in an infinite rhyme

of the world as it grows
becomes shaped and defined
as millennia pass
with an eye that is blind

like a guttering flame
lives flicker and spark
they leave existence
without further remark

that every day of our lives
is but an hour in time
that each life is fleeting
seems an infinite crime.

For us every hour
now becomes a day
because each one we have
is a countdown of dismay.

too soon we will pass
and the world will go on
in the death of our hour
to each minute we hold on

every minute is precious
every second is dear.
So have all the love
for the time you are here.

~ R. Harder