If the days speak they ahve nothing to say
for they come and go like leaves in a wind,
without any substance that I can spend
with my Brother on the tree yesterday.
Must these sixty-two hours end in just play,
during the trivial time my back must bend
while my crumbling heart is told to lend
this period which my Lord is far away?
Come child and hold my hand, your Lord is near,
but he must help your sibs to not fall down,
and he asks thee for help before Death comes.
There is not a single thing you must fear,
and continue as before, touching ground,
and follow the book until time succumbs.
©1998, Estrella Lee