"Gentle dance of passing time"

do you ever think about how time flies so fast and in such nonunderstandable ways?

“Gentle dance of passing time”

In the gentle dance of passing time,

Moments whisper secrets, so finely sublime.

Days fade softly into evening’s grace,

Leaving clues of memory, a delicate, subtle trace.

Through the pages of life, bits of us unfold, 

Like stories untold, in their own rhythm bold.

Each fleeting second a drop in the river’s flow,

An ephemeral journey, as to where, none truly know.

The sun, a faithful witness to the turning tide, 

Paints the sky in tones no artist could abide.

Clouds drift by, in silent, limber play,

As time’s elusive hands gently slip away.

Seasons weave their magic, a symphony of change,

From the blossoms of spring to winter’s chilling range.

Youth’s fleeting vigor, embraced by age’s face,

As life writes its sonnet, at a measured pace.

Memories flicker always in the aging mind, 

The past’s sweet fragrance, still so strongly lined.

Moments are cherished, like treasures in the soul, 

As time weaves it’s tale, an intricate, living stroll.

In this yet ceaseless walk, an echo remains,

Of dreams that linger, of forgotten stains.

For each passing second, a promise is compelled,

Of endless beginnings, never truly held.

Cherishing the cadence of each passing day,

Embracing the rhythm, letting time find its way.

For in this symphony, we find our own rhyme,

Embracing the essence of brief, elusive time.