(Doc Snyder’s House by Lionel Fitzgerald, 1890-1956,
Canadian painter)
Time flies.
TEMPUS FUGIT
How do I measure time?
In years that start at midnight
On a wintry day?
In stages of development
From early childhood
To the senior years?
In cups of tears
Shed by a wounded heart?
In buckets of happiness
That still brings smiles
To a wrinkly face?
In baskets filled
With sweet memories
Of warm embraces?
How do I measure life?
Whatever I can measure
Is no more life
But just the memory of it.
Life is now
A precious gift
A time to love
And savor grace.
~ Lothar Schwabe, born 1928, Canadian poet and writer
