On the day before a holiday weekend
Like the last day of school
The air empties a little
And lets some of the past in

You can feel a shift in time
Can let the muscles of ambition relax
Can sense the sunset
When the Sun
Is still reigning

Work gets done
But something else
Gets done, too:

We stop and savor
That sensation,
That knowledge
Unique among creatures:

The awareness of
And the gratitude for
The passage of time

Stop and remember:
Each moment is given,

A drop
In a swift river
Conveyed to your cup
By a source
That cannot be seen

We may be
The only ones
Who know

Don't turn and flee
In horror:
The flow of Time
Is the embrace of Light

The dark
Is but the exhalation
In between

The past breathes in
Just a little,
To remind us

That all days
Are holidays,
Because each day
Is given.

--Mr. Gobley

No comments: