yesterday, i was reminded by events in the lives around me that life is a vapor. i had forgotten, momentarily; i had been seduced by the joys and pains of these moments and had become unmindful of the joys and pains of eternity.

this morning i woke up, i made a cup of coffee, and i wrote this poem. perhaps it will become a song someday, though i am not often brimming with creative melodies. not that my lyrics are much above mediocre, either ... my aspirations exceed my abilities, i know this full well. nevertheless, i digress.

Father Time played his trick on me again.
Seemed I'd found a happy dwelling and I started digging in.
But the Earth, it quaked and rumbled, dancing 'round its daily spin--
Father Time, he stole my days from me again,
Father Time, he plays a game I'll never win.

Mother Goose told me tales to make me yearn.
I was happy 'nough before, but still she knew I had to learn
That the happy-ever-after wouldn't make it to my turn.
Mother Goose told fairy tales to make me yearn,
Mother Goose gave me alonely, not the cure.

Brotherhood dulled the sting of passing through.
My companion did the good and bad as only he could do.
Now I miss those golden moments, but it helps that he does too.
Brotherhood dulled the sting because he knew,
Brotherhood, my fellow man, he struggles too.

Sister Friend left her mark upon my soul,
Held my hand as cru-el enemies brought nights as black as coal.
Sister proved her steadfast love, she stayed as long as River rolled,
But Sister Friend, bless her soul, she didn't know
That Sister Friend, still even she would have to go.

Life is but a string of days and nights in line.
At setting sun we still believe we'll see it rising one more time,
For tomorrow isn't promised, yet I drink as if it's mine.
Then I'm gone, just like a bell that's sung its chime.
The silent shell without a song stands as a sign.

Father God has set eternity in man,
Yet He has made us out of dust, and so we cling to dropping sand.
Holy Spirit sings a song of hope: we can be born again,
For Brother Christ defeated death with willing hands.
Our Brother Christ delivered us to promised land.
Brother Christ, He gives us life that never ends.


  1. I love the rhythm of this, and the lovely hope-filled final stanza. Also: I see you've taken up more frequent blogging for Lent. I approve.

  2. libby!!! i heart you. yeah, the rhythm kind of came naturally, i think it was because of a song that was stuck in my head. i'm not THAT creative ;) i enjoy writing poetry much more than the poems enjoy being written, i think.

    yes, i'm thinking of keeping the trend. we shall see.

    ps, i like you!

  3. Yay! It's mutual. As in, I like me, too.

    Just kidding. We can be friends.