Sanctuary In The Eye Of The Storm Poem by Arnie Hicks

no stranger, death,
to those who walk ever in its shadow.
yet somewhere, between the heartache and the sorrow,
we surreptitiously covet the seed of life
and hope that from it love will grow;
pleading before the grave tempest
that mercy will the winds of fortune our way blow.

and if by chance some stranger's smile
or friend's timely laughter,
should give pause for wonder
or kindle the heart's fire to burn a little brighter,
that much sweeter the time spent waiting
the call to home from the master,
sheltered in the soft and gentle warmth
of a midnight sun soon to be washed in alabaster.