The Everlasting

It’s like the paint thins out
Half way down the sky
Steadily lighter as it reaches the horizon
But every brushstroke
Brings the darkness down a little lower
Until the painting is hidden
Underneath a sheath of glittered black

The skyline has changed
But the sky itself is just the same
As it was centuries ago
The same moon now looms
As on days so many years away

The future’s bright
And so’s the past
We last just a moment here
But the life of The Artist
Is everlasting

It’s the everlasting that links us
With our ancestors
The everlasting, like the sky
And, I hope, The Artist
That ties us together

They are
I hope
Every bit as much as I am
And they will be
I hope
Every bit as much as I will

Great Grandad
I hope you had a decent time
Under the same sky
As I sit silently beneath

World enough and time
If I had world enough and time
I’d talk to you about the things
That stay the same
The everlasting things that link us
Like the sky
And, I hope, The Artist

If we had time
When, I hope, we have time