Calvary: Part I

As my life turns to drought, time’s blazes burn And smoke-filled eyes start to water and smart; When the steel grip of age clutches my heart, I set out on a trip that has no return. The pitch-black pathway on which I embark Is lit by little but dim fire in my eyes, Like the glow of a swarm of starved fireflies That wander the night in search of a spark. The long-ago friend who perished in flight, The lover who died, hands clasped in prayer, Still look the same, but I am much grayer; By the wayside I pause to question the night. Once we were young and knew nothing of death, Our hearts were virgin, our minds had no care, We thought we were much, much lighter than air; How can it be we’re now shorter of breath?