The Storm
To you,
I don't have time to bless the night
I don't have time to pray for a new day
Too many years have passed
Too many nights have let me down
All my prayers for a new day go untold
I say there is beauty, freedom with an aging soul
Like clouds streaming before the storm
Escaping from the fire and lightning, the deluge that drowns us
No blessings from the night
No sacraments to the new day
Just as you, I am on my own
With this shortness of breath, a slow beating heart,
My life winds down,
Over the years that remain, I pass this wisdom on to you with your rising years:
All this emptiness of time will someday pass,
Be as the clouds that stream before the storm