Time Marches On
Two years old today.
My little boy is growing up.
It's difficult to say
just where the time has gone.
It seems like only yesterday
when I held a newborn in my arms
and wept for joy
that he had finally arrived.
Now he runs to me with open arms
for a mother's hug.
And we laugh together
(and sometimes cry).
He has a stubborn streak,
but so do I.
We share so much,
but then as days turn into weeks,
and months turn into years,
I try so deperately
to cling to every elusive moment
concious of the fact
that time slips by so quickly,
so quietly,
and leaves no forwarding address.
I can't turn back the hands of time
or hear that infant's cry again,
or taste that first sweet baby kiss,
or see that precious newborn smile.
All I can do is hold these memories close
in a mother's heart
and pray that God would help me to remember
that every moment is a treasure
to be sealed away,
to make each moment count
for more than worldly gain.
For only what is stored in heaven
can remain.
Two years old today.
My little boy is growing up.
It's difficult to say
just where the time has gone,
but this I know, each second of each life,
time marches on.
(c) Irene Kurtz All Rights Reserved
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