He left us on a warm, autumn day, just walked away from life like a man
on a long journey home. What is my life? What is any man’s life? Flesh and
blood, disappearing vapor; here today, gone tomorrow.
there is a toxicity in the air,
a shallow kind of pall,
a quiet mushrooming hush,
as the clouds wait in witness;
I’ve started losing track of the
days,
words no longer have meaning,
people and places become a blur,
my life fades like the night;
through it all You remain;
the myths are stripped away,
the moments silently await,
little boys stare at fastballs
floating lazily down the middle
of the plate,
the promise looms on the
distant horizon,
like some giant football scoreboard,
70 yards of open field
lies just ahead;
You were there in the beginning,
You are there in the end;
through it all You remain;
the edge does not hold the fear
it once did,
the darkness but a whisper,
the distance lessens,
as You become one step
closer;
just one beat;
just one breath;
freedom;
.
.
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