I am tired, my breath is shallow,
The room is dark and the fire is out.
But in the silence of the bellows
I dream of you, you dream of me.
You are old, yet you are young
In all the things that made you be
The most important girl for me—
My most important memory.
But now we’re free to look ahead
To when these words will fall to dust,
On the hearth-stone of out trust
In one another’s company.
I often think of long ago—
Before the day was born to know
That we must ever older grow;
Without a fight, without a word.
Yet feel the process, two together,
Gradually change us for the better
Through wandering and victory,
In God’s eternal mystery.