a passing hope no more

there's nothing certain not even the rock
on which we pledge we'll build something to last
change always comes and whether slow or fast
it happens before we can pause to take stock
no time we have until we're all in hock
to future hopes and stand before the mast
eager to shred all signs of the soft past
and then things happen and we are in shock
we do not question birds when they pass by
to ask their destination or their hope
but envy that they do not have to stay
we too would like to spread our wings and fly
away from that with which we fail to cope
and in the sky just eat and soar and play