When will it end, everyone fighting till that last second,
New entrants all the time, everyday, every minute.
Nobody loses when they race no more, lie a corpse, hidden,
So who will win when it's all gone, they'll never know.
When time ends, does our race too?
People work all their lives, competing, trying.
Our Spring is a game, people racing with us,
But we are entered too, limbering up, starting.
When Summer comes, we run for our lives,
Things come too soon, we learn to hurdle.
In Autumn, a steady jog, happy, content with our position.
Winter, regrets of wasted time, still fighting, teaching.
Individual races are over,
But the Great Race continues, small worlds competing,
The race of the World has no losers.
A Canadian Adventure - Day 52
7 hours ago