In gentle whispers, falling time doth pass,
This fleeting breeze, its leaves fly swift and brief,
Yet stirring in its wake, a weight amassed,
A burden borne and cast by every leaf.

For once the years and even decades flow,
The weight of ages on our souls descend,
We feel the heartless weight of time’s cruel show,
That all, that even we, must meet an end.

But in this truth, have we a solace found,
For though our numbered days be numbered so,
That time… and time… and time… doth not confound
This love we share; that sharing memories grow.

So let us, therefore, not in sorrow dwell,
But face the weight of time we choose to tell.

–For Elon Musk,

–And for my Sweet Love on Christmas Eve night.

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