They know I am coming; I sense that, though their tongue I have yet to learn.
I live in the warmth and protection of my own private ocean.
While angels look down in patient concern.
Oh healer, do not become my executioner but greet me with caring devotion.

God’s angels smiled, as I am welcomed with arms opened wide.
Though nurtured in childhood, I still rebel in my years of adolescence.
I have scorned those who have loved me through a veneer of youthful pride.
I have tested patient souls. Only later am I shamed to repentance.

A young husband and father, my future seems wide and open.
The years stretch before me with endless paths in my uncertain journey in life.
While there are days that surely trouble my soul I’ve always tomorrow to hope in.
These are the years that shape me, as promise and hope battle fear and strife.

Was time my foe? For wasted days and unpursued dreams whom shall I curse or blame?
In vanity, I pine over what could have been and I know there are no new tomorrows.
With anguish, I mourn over life passed by. The years I can never reclaim.
As my years fade, dreams fade too in the abyss of ancient sorrow.

Listen to the words of this tired old man even though you count them weak.
Live with purpose and caring in a way that would please your Maker.
Does it matter how high you’ve climbed that mountain of human feat?
Our memories honor the one who gave; soon forgotten is the taker.