Sunday, June 11, 2006

The hourglass

Who am I to say you are mine?
Our lives are sand that slips through an hourglass of time,
Where I am but one speck,
a mere memory that drips and flows in this river.
Do I have a right to disturb the universe - prevent your pass?
Here comes another turn of the hourglass,
Perhaps if it is meant to be,
We shall meet at last.