In the quiet dance of passing days,
Time weaves its threads in silent ways.
The echoes of moments, soft and clear,
Whisper stories we hold dear.

Each tick a reminder, fleeting and true,
Of dreams once vibrant, skies once blue.
Yet in its gentle, endless stride,
Time cradles both joy and sorrow’s tide.

The past a shadow, the future a light,
In time’s embrace, both day and night.
A river flowing, unstoppable and vast,
Connecting moments, from first to last.

So cherish now, this present grace,
For time’s embrace is a tender space.
In every heartbeat, in every sigh,
Time whispers softly, as it passes by.