In this one of many possible worlds
All for the best or some bizarre test?
It is what it is and whatever
Time is still the infinite jest

The arrow flies when you dream
The hours tick away, the cells tick away
The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes
The hours tick away, they tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect
So hard to earn, so easily burned

The future disappears into memory
With only a moment between
Forever dwells in that moment
Hope is what remains to be seen

In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
It's a measure of a life

01.07.24

Neil Peart
September 12, 1952 - January 7, 2020