Poetic Interlude on Time

Time

I'm told there will be time.
I don't agree.
There won't always be time to do the things we want to do.

A time will come when we can't taste snowflakes falling toward us.
A time will come when we won't have to bundle up from the cold.
A time will come when we are the cold.

A time will come when we can't hear the raindrops.
A time will come when we don't watch the rain hit the ground.
A time will come when we no longer feel the raindrops beating down.


A time will come when we can't stand on the grass, can't walk on that grass barefoot.
A time will come when we can't feel the breeze of fresh air.
A time will come when we won't hear birds sharing the latest gossip.
A time will come when we won't be able to close our eyes and let the sun kiss our eyelids.

And a time will come when we can't kick pine-cones as we walk along,
Can't kick pine-cones around with no other end in sight.

So I guess there will time.
But not the way we imagine,
Not the way we hope,
Not the way we desire.

And when that time is upon you, will you have been happy?