Time like the wind , we cannot control
It moves to its own rhythm, playing its own notes.
We try to plan our lives, not able to see around the corner.
And are caught in times grip, and are sometimes left as donors.
Yet time is not without mercy, its eternal hopes and joys
For time wants to give us time, time to look for.
To find out who we are, the knowing of our being,
Is times fruit to us that we might know our meaning.
And what meaning could there be but love,
for only love can enjoy,
The gift that time offers, the gift we most ignore.
To find in our soul and spirit the meaning of love in time,
Love that must be given away, love that is divine.
But we become so impatient with time, when we begin to find,
The ecstasy and the gift of one, love living in time.
Still time is not anxious, time wants us to learn,
That love must be patient, less love will be spurned.
So be not tearful with love, time is not blind.
Time sees your pain, and time feels your cries.
And as the days turn to months and the months turn to years,
Love will always be yours.
Larry B. Patrick