The winds of time wash over us
as the breezes of history consume
In the air the heavenly father watches
In the end he comes and removes
Life he gave as a gift of time
A line measured in wealth so fine
Spent in the pleasures of the every day
Family, friends, and a free walk our own way
Every day spent as a gift of love
And, search for one and find that heavenly dove
That peace and contentment found in us all
With spirit everlasting beyond strifes call
The measure of life; so disparate, unknown
Flown through the air, or safe at home
These do not diminish the wholeness of life
Only enhance those memory's held so very tight
In the heart of all-in one's own belief
That inner sanctum sanctorum filled with relief
Where the mind can go to the soul and call
Our loved one's from memories filled from God's mall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem