Fifteen years.

Fifteen years

 Fifteen years I’m coming here 
Spring and summer, even winter, 
An hour of quiet, undisturbed, 
While we reflect and sit in silence. 

The old yew tree has grown, 
It’s filling now the window 
Just a sliver of blue sky 
That paints the way to heaven. 

 Here we sit with silver hair 
Our future now uncertain 
When we leave this meeting house 
Unsure of who is left behind us. 

Ours the job to lock the doors 
Pass the torch, hand over keys 
 To small groups that meet at home 
Where smaller windows greet the sky. 

We’ll light the candle in the corners 
Prevent the dark from coming in 
Fill our hearts and homes with light 
Keep a vigil through the night.

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