• The cricket and the dragon
    sat together on a hill
    enjoying the sweet, savory breeze,
    the springtime's morning chill.

    Said the cricket to the dragon,
    "How do you see time?
    Is it something one can touch and feel
    weighed in by the church bell chime?"

    The dragon sighed slowly
    and turned his wrinkled head.
    His eyes were old and weary,
    his smile nearly dead.

    "Time is like an ocean
    stretching beyond that we see
    taking each living thing in its tide
    swept up, with life's debris."

    "Its force cannot be stopped
    or controlled by any means.
    It's forever quickly passing us by
    caught up in our daily routines."

    The cricket hopped up closer
    "Then what is a day worth?
    Each day, full of minutes, each minute of seconds,
    on this continually spinning earth?"

    "Seconds are cheap, and moments are fleeting,"
    said the dragon with sadness in his voice.
    "I've seen many days, many months, many years...
    Time has not bent to my choice."

    The cricket, troubled, looked up at the sun
    and contemplated what he had heard.
    He would never see years--only months and days
    Was his life so cheap? Absurd!

    Said the cricket to the dragon
    at length once he'd had time to think,
    "I refuse believe we are helpless
    in this ocean of time, left to sink."

    "My life may be short, in comparison,
    but I choose to enjoy what is mine.
    Each precious second will be spent wisely
    each day the sun chooses to shine."

    "For time can only be measured
    by the things you spend it on.
    Each moment can be beautiful
    if you don't stop to regret the ones gone."

    The cricket and the dragon
    sat together on a hill.
    Time passed on as it always had,
    and as it always will.