In all truth I tell you, when you were young you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go.' (John 21:18)
It may come to pass
That when I grow old
I will always be cold
By the fire
In the draft
Of an open door
Afraid when left
On my own
By my own disowned
And when I lose myself
My self control
They will take me
To a place where
I would rather not go
Leaving me there
Until I go senseless
Useless
Useless
And then I will cry like a child
With an ache that is not understood
Not having the words to define it
And all I will know
Is a far distant fear
Ever near
That I am unfit for Communion
And raising the cap
I no longer possess with respect
I will cry like a child
Until Christ be in everything
And everything within me
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