Origami

And now another week has passed. 7 years folded into days like origami... Next year the day of my birth A Monday again, Shall start another 7 years of my future. In which a half a century will have turned. The reveal of the eyes know of only what’s ahead and what’s behind. God, please give me this grace. Love is the world you grant us. And may the time remaining be seen through a content fathers eyes. For we know not when our time is nigh, Or if even worthy of a future beyond that week which ends. But I will ask if I've loved correctly or what I might have deprived. I will make sure I ask these questions when that time is time. After all and in the end we are origami... with our stories folded inside.