Crystal Ball
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Laurence Overmire
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I look into the future sometimes and see
Death
My own and those I love
The sadness is overwhelming
The loss too great for pretense
The leaving of this world
The beauty of small things
The smell of grass
The touch of hand to cheek
The flight of a sparrow in the wind.
The time will come
There is no escape
There is only the living of every minute
Aware
In the fullness of what is, and
The truth of what must be.
~ Laurence Overmire
(Previously published in Poetry Soul to Soul, Winter 2002)
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