We’re intrepid and infinite,
the turning of day to night.
We’re infinite as the galaxies,
the oceans and rays radiating light.
We’re intrepid,
though miniscule in time’s might.
Gray hairs and slower bodies,
advance upon the sanguine.
The, “it’ll never happen to me.”
We’re remaining stout-hearted,
without denying,
It’s coming.
Time gallops indefinitely
across the massive unknown.
We pray it’s a graceful
embrace as we contemplate
have we changed enough to be, “great?”
We pray,
holding onto our faith and trust
in something vast and find solace.
Time will take us all
but our memories will live on.
Hopefully, we enjoyed
all the time that has passed on.
Dawning Creations 
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