Promises have no small print.
They are to be weighed with care.
They are not mere words spoken.
They prove only truth not dare.
They act as a sacrament:
A foundation set in stone:
Love’s finger codes each of them,
Fate makes each of them atone.
They are providential:
They become subject to suit
Even the smallest flower,
When it was yet just a root.
Promises are marks of love,
Just hunger is what they ease.
They mark a higher power,
For hope is what they increase.
Seasons turn, turn, turn;
In bursts and years, life ages;
Regrets burn, burn, burn
And all of life rages.
Suns and moons stay and fade;
Leaves grow to become dust;
Everything breaks that once was made;
Nature does what nature must.
Feelings change, they alter.
Even though truth doesn’t lie,
It, too, can falter, falter,
And can quietly die.
Fear makes things cling to stay:
Do love, though it may not survive;
There is always night after day,
Do try to keep one alive.
Mothers hate sons in time,
A Son cannot be a Daughter,
What is yours cannot be mine,
Not tears, not laughter.
No one learns, learns, learns,
You think you can change it all,
This thought yearns, yearns, yearns,
As faith’s empires fall.
So many faces I have seen,
So many places I have been,
So many distances I have run,
Such moonshine, such sun,
So many feelings curbed low,
So much I let flow,
So many things I must say,
Now, it must all be in grey.
So many dreams came to pass:
Some were diamonds, some glass.
A few too many hearts betrayed,
But then, there were those that stayed.
So much of life flashed on by,
Yet I am not quite ready to die.
So much of pain and loss and grief,
With quite enough joy to bring relief.
So many faces, dead and gone,
And yet I am never alone.
So much love I have known,
I have lived,
I have learnt,
I have grown.
Hearts Still Care 
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