Many Are the Mysteries

Many Are The Mysteries I've loved and lost at life before I've lived and lost at love. So many are the mysteries below so far above. Many things we long for still are worth the wait. Hating things we love sometimes and loving what we hate. Dreams we sometime choose to dream like promises we keep. Praying should the dream come true it's not while still we sleep. Running fast to get things done unseen mountains we must climb. Only to find that when we're done we long ago ran out of time. Still we struggle day by day through darkness of the night. Stealing time sometimes we pray tomorrow, we get it right. Lifting faces to the sky we find it feels like rain. As teardrops gently touch our skin from some forgotten pain. Then we find we made it through what we can take no longer. Better for the pain we knew for it has made us stronger. Edwin C Hofert