When once we imagined our lives to be free
we balance the hours of time in this way.
We always imagine the day ahead will be
an easier margin for error than was today.
Sunshine in morning autumn burning leaves
we recognize the sheath of summer’s end.
When while the wind begins Her steady heave
our lives begin to shelter without any pretend.
We will when necessary face the music of eyes
the answers to our lives seems morality belies.
While love is the ultimate symbol of survival
so frequently our world comes crashing all
I would, life permitted seek some solace in release
well within, sensitivity’s favor would be my peace