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Old Friends
Old friends are a steady spring rain, or late summer sunshine edging into fall, or frosted leaves along a snowy path— a voice for all seasons saying, I know you. The older I grow, the more I fear I'll lose my old friends, as if too many years have scrolled by since the day we sprang forth, seeking each other. Old friend, I knew you before we met. I saw you at the window of my soul— I heard you in the steady millstone of my heart grinding grain for our daily bread. You are sedimentary, rock-solid cousin earth, where I stand firmly, astonished by your grace and truth. And gratitude comes to me and says: "Tell me anything and I will listen. Ask me anything, and I will answer you."