There is still time
To kiss my old parents
And to realize
What lovely saints
In a dark world.
I fear the demise
Of everyone I love,
Fear that I lost myself
More years ago
Than I can remember.
Gradually, we touch people
Through prayers and kindness
And then trust by faith
We left a beautiful poem
In their hearts’ sacred place.
When we’re lonely
Or bereft with grief,
God reads to us the poems
Enshrined within.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/collecting-poems/
