"Mist and snow blot out the world.
Bony trees are thinly fleshed with ice.
A couple laughs below a stone monument,
But behind a bristled hedge,
A lone woman sings a dirge.
Old age is lonely.
Dreams of those I've buried haunt me.
Was I ever ready to shoulder this mantle?
It smothered a carefree youth.
Now neither parent, lover, nor friends have I,
And great fame is as distant as spring's leaves."
Having witnessed such death at such a young age, I often pray God now not to be done with me yet. I feel so young, so strong, so capable of so many of the things the friends my own age have already done. I pray indeed that they are still before me, so that my old age will be old, indeed, and perhaps not so lonely after all.
Bony trees are thinly fleshed with ice.
A couple laughs below a stone monument,
But behind a bristled hedge,
A lone woman sings a dirge.
Old age is lonely.
Dreams of those I've buried haunt me.
Was I ever ready to shoulder this mantle?
It smothered a carefree youth.
Now neither parent, lover, nor friends have I,
And great fame is as distant as spring's leaves."
Having witnessed such death at such a young age, I often pray God now not to be done with me yet. I feel so young, so strong, so capable of so many of the things the friends my own age have already done. I pray indeed that they are still before me, so that my old age will be old, indeed, and perhaps not so lonely after all.
All of the death witnessing & mourning & the time spent aching & longing have molded and shaped us. God was creating us vessels renewed. For what follows death-- the resurrection of course. The time is now. God created us for now. It all was for now. We rise! We resurrect!
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