Time is a river,
swiftly running from our clumsy attempts
to capture it.
Decisions in life chisel and erode our souls
and mold us into who we become.
Every so often we branch off to distant lands,
and we are the source of life to desperate, arid souls.
we pan the water's deep, and if the time is right,
we find bits of gold.
Treasure those blissful moments, for gold, too, will slip away.
And, all we can do is remember them, before we carry on.