BY DR. AGONSON
We feel the moments slipping from our grasp
and mark the time with calendars and clocks.
Our life’s like dust stirred up within a breeze
which comes, which goes, which no man yet can seize.
And on and on the tick-tock ticking clocks
tick us away unto our final gasp.
O wretched men who live yet see they die
lost on this sea of rising falling fate,
how can you take the measure of your life?
and can you find a reason for your strife?
We chart a course not knowing our own fate.
We suffer good with ill and wonder why.
And yet I say to seize this moment now,
to in it make the best that it can be,
for else is worse, and worse, meant to be worse.
You cannot hold the sky nor run the universe,
but you can be the best that you can be.
And any more to do I know not how.
Tale Told 