The Weight of Every Hour

Not every hour passes the same.

Some disappear before we notice them.

Others remain with us for years.

An hour in a waiting room.

A conversation that changed everything.

A goodbye we didn't know would be the last.

We measure time by minutes and calendars.

Life rarely does.

It measures by what each hour asks of us.

Perhaps that is why some seasons feel heavier than others.

Not because they lasted longer.

Because they asked us to carry more.

Maybe a life is never measured by the number of hours we are given.

But by what we choose to hold...

within them.