THE FINAL HARVEST
A touch can start a grieving in my blood
for all the dead who left the world unloved
and hungered for the kiss that would unfold
and waited as they wasted and grew old.
And now that I am young I must recall
that years will pass as summer turns to fall
and in the autumn season of my days
TRUSTING THE LIGHT
We must rely on your grace
the way the moon has confidence in the sun
as she climbs higher into the heavens.
Each day we trust in your light
as the lark awaits the dawn
with a throbbing breast and a ready song.
And in the night we must remember
that your love is still with us
just as the sun shines on the earth