Growing Old and Wondering

Old faces, filled with time
Flash back what’s to come like heat lightening
taking the long road home

Lost smiles, fretful grimaces, contorted frowns
All sides of broken triangles
Lonely whispers awaiting blind supplication

Like wayward priests in intercession
Clouds, filled with tomorrow, rain hard
on barren fields, left alone in fallow adoration

Weak, knees trembling, arms outstretched
Imagined saviors climb down from still green crosses
Crucification waits at least one more day

Without warning, or reason
another day is born from today’s seeds, and
more time fills our aging faces