The Garden

In this one of many possible worlds, all for the best, or some bizarre test?

It is what it is - and whatever

Time is still the infinite jest

The arrow files when you dream, the hours tick away - the cells tick away

The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes

The hours tick away - they tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect

So hard to earn, so easily burned

In the fullness of time

A garden to nurture and protect

In the rise and the set of the sun

'Til the stars go spinning - spinning 'round the night

It is what it is - and forever

Each moment a memory in flight

The arrow flies while you breathe, the hours tick away - the cells tick away

The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve

The hours tick away - they tick away

The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect

The way you live, the gifts that you give

In the fullness of time

It's the only return that you expect

The future disappears into memory

With only a moment between

Forever dwells in that moment

Hope is what remains to be seen