Ten fingers, ten toes.
Chubby cheeks, and heaven knows
what even the next days would hold,
let alone how three years unfold.
Three years did pass, and Time has found us
pleading, please let us stay.
Let us wake up in the morning
finding it the same as yesterday.
Time refrained, yet Wisdom answered:
“The past contains a thousand gifts,
the present thousands more.
Don’t sacrifice a lifetime of todays
for what little came before.”
I’ll turn then, not from the past,
but to both what’s here and heretofore,
Reminiscing of a thousand days,
bounding forward into evermore.