The wind soaks through my soul
leaves my body yearning for days of old.
Windy days remind me of lost years
often causes my eyes to tear.
Time slips to close a day, a month, and a year
gone in a flash until facing a mirror.
Time is infinite…nothing stops imaginative hands
it soars around in air and throughout lands.
It’s likening to gusts sweeping away all clutter
leaving fresh air and cleaning out gutters.
I cannot hold onto a season or capture a time
it’s zipping around…to mess with my mind.
Time has no mercy and feels no pain
the next day comes and it remains the same.
There’s not a way to keep and hold it still
it travels on…against the world and peoples will.
Think of time as another day…
people cannot allow it to “steal” their minds, take it away.
People must meet time like they face wind
enjoy moments fresh air rounds the bend.
Allow a blustery day to cleanse the body and soul…
before people know it they’ll be lame and old.
Don’t allow the grip of time to snatch up days
forget about it and push forth to go on the way.
Barbara Kasey Smith is the writer of this poem – Copyright 2014 – Use by Permission Only.