Because I have withered
and felt my withered hands,
and because I have been made
drunk on the sounds of words
apart from meaning,
let me tell you
that the day goes dancing
when you have ceased to sing
and let the strings go quiet
and set the instrument by your
feet. And because I have
withered
and seen my withered cheeks,
I hope that you will listen
when I tell you that
time is still
not a wicked thing, but
time
and the flesh
and the world
return to God who made them
and makes them new.
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