There will be time to take your hand, one day,
time not to talk, not to know urgency.
There will be walking times, watching the sea,
our faces turned towards the wind-borne spray.
Then there will be no need for us to say
is this forever - ours the certainty
of something understood. The he and she
of half-forgotten stories . . .
We have seen war and death. We have seen fire
and tempest. We have seen disease and pain.
These times have tried us hard and may again
crash rude upon our lives. We stand aware,
while through it all our human hearts aspire
to love. We are not blind. We have this power.