Passing time

May 30, 2011


In the schoolyard today.

With my little one.

And glimpsed.

For a moment.

My twenty-year old.

Aged eight.

Running with a bag.

Bigger than her.

To hug me.

And thought that.

In spite of the wrinkles.

This passing of time.

Is a treasure.

That carries within it.

Possibilities.

Of change.

And growth.

And new ways.

Not yet trod.

By young.

Or old.

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun.”

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