A Poem: Razors.

Death is inevitable

I am here [alone].

God is silent,

yet heard in the whispering wind

and crashing thunder.

People are loud

and say very little

even less that is remembered.

In youth, emotions fly by

With age, time speeds up

Emotions slow down

Beauty is given

to orchids and storms.

Wisdom is earned

with heartbreak and tears.

I am here.