Monologue

Monologue

When sorrow finds us, to the church we stray,
To weep in silence, seeking understanding;
We know that tears can wash the pain away,
And long for arms, for warmth, for love unending.
We yearn for shelter, like a child once more,
Safe in a father’s strong and steadfast grace—
Yet when the aching leaves us, we ignore
That sacred bond, and time reclaims its pace.

No prayers, no pleas, no penitent display—
We live as if no storm shall rise again,
Assured, perhaps, that fate will find a way,
That fortune turns to cleanse all prior stain.
But cast your gaze on those who dwell in light,
Who thank not men, but God, for each day’s breath;
Who bless the dawn, the noon, the peaceful night,
And cherish time, from birth until their death.

They do not mark their days in shades and strife,
Nor seek reward for burdens that they bear—
They ask not much of this uncertain life,
Nor chase the wind, nor bargain with the air.
We try to grasp the secrets of delight,
Forgetting joy’s not bought, nor tightly held;
It is not found in passion’s briefest flight,
But in the grace of being, still and spelled.

Life is a path through some enchanted wood,
Where all we see reflects the soul within—
And when we turn calm skies to storms for good,
We cast away the peace we could have been.
Now here we stand, our hearts and minds entwined,
And as you muse upon the words I’ve spoken,
I hope no sorrow lingers in your mind—
And thank you, kindest souls, for hearts left open.