In the end


Oh sacred, final morning still,

Your frosted breath has chilled the air.

The hints of light above the hill

Evoke this humble, solemn prayer:

Enchant our hearts with unhurried pace,

Impede the rise of morning’s glow;

In mercy, allow a moment’s grace,

And pass the hours of this day slow.

Create a pause for whispers soft,

For those who need a last embrace,

For those who send their sighs aloft,

For those who love this weary face.

Oh sacred, final morning calm,

Delay the truth we know must come

Provide a modest healing balm,

For their sakes—slow, ‘til the day is done.