A World Without End

Time is tragic.

Always enough to mess things up,
but never enough to set things right.

Always enough to experience beauty,
but never enough to exhaust it.

Always ample for the wicked,
but scarce for the humble.

Each day,
weighing us down,
breaking our bones,
dragging down our skin.

But…

In time’s fullness,
Weight was lifted,
Dry bones enlivened,
Dead bodies lifted up.