Folded Hands

The green gray years have so quickly passed me by.The times of folded hands with pleading still hearts Come now from within the silent sorrows of where the somber spirit resides.

I watch now as the days come and ever so softly go.Colors change; green and alive, to umber and gold.

The warm breeze flickers, as the changing of the leaves unto the crisp morn which greets the first fallen snow.

Yet still, and likened unto you… all those to which I love; they with folded hands and closed eyes, pass on an go.

So it is as with the trees and the warm but fleeting breeze that I and I alone bide my time with its wants and needs.

Yet hereunto this, my season last

I with folded hands watch the Eastern sky

unto which my fate, my lot has been cast.

J. Allen Wilson © TEN 2006

Updated page with my art