I’m walking the path
All around me and under my feet
Crackling bodies of dead saints…
Above me
Floating glories
Invading the sweet morning air
Soldiers of autumn majesty
Born for flight
To fade and then to sail
Letting go
They streak
Yellow, orange, red
Marching through the skies
Content with their course
sure, they carried a burden
they filled their place
but, do they dream of green days in youth?
do they wonder of purpose?
do they regret?
Time is the frame and the curse
Their landing ends the wait
Only a shell is left behind
Left to trample and rot
If only for just this wonderfully crafted moment
If only for this gliding instant
Their life reflects the Creator’s glory
Wouldn’t such a great and noble purpose make all right?
These are the fallen heroes of a greater glory
I long to make such a moment out of my life!
…these are my thoughts
as I walk the path
of crackling saints.
Patrick Langan
11/5/05
