After dark, you’ll see the varnished feather flutter timidly
The tone of our voices will be hush and snore
The candle light will be a dancing damsel dilly-dallying in last rite
Final performance before silent passing out
Life snuffed out, forgotten, just old, just picture-in-mind
Grinding to pieces the snappy progression of infinity
Grand purpose apparently contradicted, crossed, disrupted
So our eyes see these occurrences
Old, unconnected, in disarray
In regular attitude, we conclude that we find no pattern
We find no meaning

But don’t forget the times we forayed in joyful dance
When we boldly dared the dizzying heights
When we stuttered upon broken gravel straits, not even cringing
When the weightiest of tasks seemed lightest to give away
Our post of freedom, our line of confidence
Our bastion of hope
Life is the gift, the package of togetherness which we together unwrap
The silent meditation birthing jubilant cries and repentant wails
Our voices in union, in seclusion
Don’t forget the times of sunshine, of chattering teeth and drenched backs
All the seasons and all the flowers, crumpled and blossoming and dropping
The cycle of living and dying, the wave of rise and fall
The contrasts that help us comprehend, that help us define
The world temporal, and eternity boundless
Divine writ we read with hearts wide open to life.



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