Stir much-loved child
you are growing, you have aged.
Worry now troubles time’s hands
as they turn ’round the day.
Take heart, and fear not,
for the Son will shine
light on this darkness.

Sleep ancient sunset,
your days have come
to an end, crawling ever nearer.
You are weary, so rest.
Let now the moon be your guide
Still bright, but dimmer.

The Son is leading you home
to His lighthouse on the shore.
Away you will be from the troubles
of sea waves and winds that tore at
your mind and body over the hands of time.

©Angel 2009
my original title was Faith (as you can see at the very top of the poem), but…I named the poem before I wrote it, so of course (as usual with my writing) the title doesn’t really fit. So far I like all of the ideas.