THE CIRCLE OF TIME
Why do we write, what stories do we seek,
Perhaps the words we cannot always speak?
We dream of beginnings with endings so bright,
Creating our worlds through the stillness of night.
A child looks forward with wonder and eyes wide,
While years move quietly, with time as our guide.
The laughter of youth slowly turns into years,
And memories gather through triumphs and tears.
We once chased tomorrow, believing it stayed,
Never imagining how quickly it fades.
The hands of the clock never pause or rewind,
Leaving yesterday somewhere behind.
Yet life is a story we all get to write,
Some pages are dark, while others shine bright.
So treasure each chapter, both old and brand new,
For the ending is shaped by the things that we do.
And when the last page of our story is near,
May love be the words that remain crystal clear.
For life isn’t measured by where we began—
But by what we leave in the hearts of our fellow man.
— Sam Tumblin
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