.
.Youth is light,
Breaking across
The tired world.
Light is sharing,
In youth like the air,
Each breath a bloom
From some new flower,
Lost in true wilderness,
Of light, each cut shine,
Is sheered with others
Youthful as enlighted
Ones under heaven.
And tired souls smile
As they watch light
Grow, for tired light
Knows, each day
Was a gift of sight,
As the elder beams
Slowly fade into so,
Such, a western sky
With old mellowness
Of promised comings,
Weary lords to make,
Newborns, rebirthed,
Freshly, rawly on high.