Promises of Beautiful Things

My son stayed the night and then made the bed
In the morning without warning
Or fanfare no expectation of praise
But just because it seemed it was
The sort of thing one ought to do these days

I met his band mate last night and he said
That I am just like an older Steve Lance
Which is the name he and I share
These days people often compare
The two of us favorably I see
As delighted I dive into this dance
Which began if at all long before me

Young and old in the fall a November
Pregnant with the promises of
Beautiful things which we will remember
Grown children with band mates who love
Us as we are there in their car

Out in front of this house where the window
Looks on the future as the past would know

+Steven Curtis Lance



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