And so these days turn to weeks
And weeks to months but still
The shadow of the smoke seems close
As yesterday's lost hours of late summer
Shadows kept alive
Kept alive in quiet eyes
Hear the reed in a lone flute
Lamenting the loss of a perfect day
A silence settles with the last
Remnants strewn in desolation
Twisted engines and crumpled wings
The bravery in time will be just
Another loss for me to
Leave you alone in;
Yet if you listen as time does its handiwork
You can hear the triumphant return
As the leaves whisper back to skeletons
Time will bury all...
But for the grace of love
I'd will the meaning of heaven from above.
----------
the first daffodils are blooming today, and the robins have returned to look for worms, though the sun isn't shining
And weeks to months but still
The shadow of the smoke seems close
As yesterday's lost hours of late summer
Shadows kept alive
Kept alive in quiet eyes
Hear the reed in a lone flute
Lamenting the loss of a perfect day
A silence settles with the last
Remnants strewn in desolation
Twisted engines and crumpled wings
The bravery in time will be just
Another loss for me to
Leave you alone in;
Yet if you listen as time does its handiwork
You can hear the triumphant return
As the leaves whisper back to skeletons
Time will bury all...
But for the grace of love
I'd will the meaning of heaven from above.
----------
the first daffodils are blooming today, and the robins have returned to look for worms, though the sun isn't shining
