PY:The fabric of time

The grey hours of dawn greet me
As solemnly as pall bearers
The hand of the clock inches agonizingly forward
As if to remind me there's no going back

I wish like every naive soul to turn back the clock
And relive yesterday in all its beauty
If I lived it a million times more happily this moment would still be upon me
Such is the inevitability of time

What then, is the point of regretting a beautiful past?
Or to place upon the unborn future your burgeoning hopes?
There is wisdom in neither
For this moment is all there is to live

The man with eyes set in eternity watches me
Not with the agonized look of sorrow
Nor with the ever twinkling gaze of hope
For he has seen too much to be capable of emotion now

He weaves on the fabric of time
With hands as steady as rock
His every breath a knit,
The pattern forever elusive.