And time
like a lily
drying in the sun.
The beautiful moments
fading into memories;
the beautiful colors
fading into grays.
And time,
slipping through our fingers
quaking on the surface
of the earth.
Quaking and trembling
because it is afraid.
You see,
time is ending.
Time is running out.
And when the universe
extends her fragile hand
and brushes away
the dust of our existence--
the fragments of our time,
no, our times--
seconds,
minutes,
hours,
days
gone into the wind
like the withered,
falling petals
of a lily in the sun.