Today I am praying for a friend

and this poem emerged amidst the prayers

There will be a glory we do not know—
cannot imagine, we creatures here below
toiling, weary, over soil beneath the sun,
eyes darkened to the end, a web half spun.

We race against the dwindling sands of time.
We long to trace the reason, taste the rhyme.
We struggle with our weakness in this space,
striving to accept the work of grace.

While we stumble through …