Beating our fists bloody at inexorable air, trying to defy the passage of time, we find–at the end of the line–our bodies, our hearts, our minds
As we decline into that good night.
Our rage a peripatetic fit, the fight unwinnable…
The inexorable slide is swallowed up in the tide of the grace of an ineffable God.
Our bodies made new, our minds renewed:
Free at last from sin’s crimson stains, the mortal takes on immortality
Only joy remains