Moments of Gold
Bryan Davis
The moments of time that lay piled up and scattered
I frittered away as if none of them mattered.
A rich man was I, so why bother to measure
The castaway minutes my elders called treasure?
The time-wasting trifles all sparkled and glistened;
They captured my focus; I cared not to listen.
And now as I sit with my clock fully leached,
Those minutes are phantoms that fly out of reach.
I march to the darkness, the reaper in view;
The moments now precious are fleeting and few.
From dollars to pennies, my time is nigh spent
The last one I kiss though too late to repent
The youth I should warn, yet now I despair.
I realize their outlook I cannot repair.
For theirs are reflections of my foolish days,
And I neither listened, nor altered my ways.
I go to my casket still yearning for hours
I threw to the wind and laughed at the powers
That call to us mortals, “Each minute is gold.
Invest when you’re young to buy peace when you’re old.”
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Categories: Thoughts from the Heart
That is so true. We gamble our time away, not realizing that each minute could be our last. Then, when we die, we wish for more time to say goodbye, put our affairs in order. We had our entire life to do that! But we wasted it.
strong stuff
Wow what a challenge this poem is. It encourages me to live every moment for Christ and to share the Gospel while I can. As you said Mr. Davis “every minute is gold.”