Years ago, years ago, years ago

He's come down to tell me

That life is so close to the end

And I cannot let it slip away

And be so caught up with myself

And the earth cannot be my

resting place

I have a bigger space

To take my life

In a quiet peaceful place

You are my resting place

And though we see him go

It's still hard to cope

And I see her cry

And it kills me inside

I'm scared to say

I will not last unless you stay

I'm lost without meaning

Of where we will go

You take me in

And I start to love again

Where will I be

in these coming days

I cannot I cannot

You know the way

and you are my resting place

A Simple Life, The True Miraculous One

And although it is sad,

We cannot grieve this day.

His arms and legs now stay,

In Gods miraculous way.

Life in greatness it is true,

My grandpa was a real man.

Sturdy of his talk,

And scruffy like a can.

Neither life nor death,

Has a real name,

But I find it lurking,

In the depth of my brain.

I think about it often,

The way we leave this earth.

It's bothersome at times,

But brings back life and birth.

Our life is but a fraction,

Of eternity in His land.

And we cannot mourn,

For the dead beneath the sand.

In joyous praise we raise,

And live forevermore,

In wonder of the Holy,

And where one day we'll soar.

Hello Spring

I truly forgot 

How the sun shown outdoors

And comes so close to your face

I almost forgot

That trees have a scent

And a field is a meditating place.

I started to remember

How the sky has color

And it twinkles so close in your eye.

I finally felt

That the air has warmth

And draws your breath to a comforting sigh.

Oh Happy Day

And in helping others 

and being held in a charitable name,

Do we loose focus 

Of this worthy cause to claim?

To succeed is not to gain

As to gain is not to win,

The colors of our soul,

Do truly lie within.

As this cliche thought in poetry

May only seem so dull,

We cannot live so busily,

Daily making life our goal.

It is not ours to own,

Although earth was made for us,

A purpose in our self,

Is something we cannot trust.

A selfless barrier lies

When we live and only strive

For a being that is love

And dictates the day we die.

This Years First Storm

Indeed outside the rain is a wicked beat,

It rests its veins in the pain of our seat.

Beating the pane of a window close by,

The stars cannot even open an eye.

Stealing the show one thousand feet in air,

The sun to come out, it will not dare.

A loveless romance, it tears our thought,

To a wretched soul, our minds do rot.

Withering heights claim it has a righteous name,

 I agree with the swift wind it strikes the blame.