Sunrise over Sundance, streaming light into my room
Washes across my face, like sand on a deck chased by a broom
I could sleep another hour into the new day
But the sun announces it is time to awaken and play
Alas, for this day I have no plans
I shall enjoy quiet reflection on the Priest Lake sands.
For we, time is a wasting resource.
Too much for the young, too little for the old.
As time wastes away the enthusiasm and energy of our youth,
All we might hope is we are in a place we want to be.
No place does waste away time as does Priest Lake;
And there is no greater place to be, and have time waste away.