Tick-Tock

I have not the tongue of honey
My lips are bitter sweet
And of the feast of life I find
Each day a stunning treat

I have washed my soul in the stars at night
Kissed my skin with the morning dew
Listened as the wind played the trees to applause
And discovered a leaf in every hue

My feet know not the grace of swans
Still my bearing is planted and strong
And when my branches have fallen low
I hum the tune of a humbling song

Merely a girl, a woman, a soul
Finding paths meant for me and mine
I hear it now - I understand - it's close...
The "tick-tock" of time.