A grim prospect indeed
that the best one can hope for
is to surrender to death
as a part of nature
I can’t see myself
on my deathbed thinking
“It just doesn’t get any better than this!”

The serenity of wheat
sways in the sun so sweet
I walk in peace
on the golden fleece
that bends beneath my feet

As I lean against this tree
I feel so close to thee
Your kiss of gold
has taken hold
and won’t let go of me

Picture lying
in a lush green field
cradled within an ancient glen
Boundless is your imagination
of where the gods lived back then

There’s much to fear from living
When you don’t know what you’re doing

There’s much to fear from dying
When you can’t see where you’re going

From the outside looking in
It would seem that one can’t win

So, get in the boat with Michael
And start rowing

Do raindrops become
lost in the ocean
when they fall into the sea
or do they become
united as one
content with eternity?

Can life be so bad
that you’re better off dead
I asked a wise man
and here’s what he said:

“There’s no way out of life
except through death
So, beware of that spot
between a rock and a hard place”

To feel that
there is no hope
to fill
that which cannot be filled
to console
the inconsolable
to resurrect
that which will not be raised
is to know that
at least,
your pain
will not abandon you