Priorities

Round and Round the mulberry bush we all run,
Passing many hours baking in the sun,
The hands of the clock go round and round,
While machines fill our heads with empty sound,
The silver moon rises full to wither to sliver again.
Calling the rolling tides to stir the sand.
Hour glasses always empty if one isn't careful,
Routines become fetters leaving the hours bland.
Better that life has more meaning than what we collect.
Time with your children more important to protect.
Priceless are the memories made when families play.
The concerns of the world may on you weigh,
Sometimes it's hard to do what we ought,
In truth, truest treasure can never be bought.
For things you can not keep,
When we pass into eternal sleep.