To some you are friendly; to others you're not,
Why sometimes too little and sometimes a lot?
Whilst giving to some, from others you're taking,
Some favouring kindly, whilst others forsaking.

Your predictable tread accompanies our span,
Each culture, generation, child, woman and man.
Every subject upon this clock-earth we roam,
Is lead by its hands, as if guiding us home.

A conundrum as yet for our limited science,
Death, sole escape from its rigid compliance.
Though giving us life, our future and history,
Its nature and limits remain yet a mystery.

Of course the veiled subject of this piquant rhyme,
Is the sunrise and sunset: our concept of time.
Its old silent engine renders Earth, you and me,
Ensures this vast something from nothing can be.

So, with due care you should through life proceed,
Assume time you're granted may be less than you need.
And enjoy each new day it may care to bestow,
As but briefly you share its inexorable flow.