Father Time

Father Time strokes his beard,

and watches the sand in his hourglass fall.

Each little grain a moment in time,

memories of seconds that belonged to us all.

His end grows near and he’s reached his peace,

he will flip the hourglass once more.

A tiny baby will take his thrown and watch the first grains drop.

Time will pass through each day and he will grow old like every year before.

The bones of the years before build the foundation of the throne for tomorrow,

when a new babe takes his place in time.

While the world sings together in song,

the past hears the New Years bells ring their last chime.