58 is not too late,
To start again.
To find faith, restore hope,
Call a friend.
58 is far too early,
To forego dreams,
Treat others surly.
58 is the time,
To show God’s love
And chase a purpose,
From up above.
God, I pray,
That 58 is not too late!
Every day, bit by bit, the secret we reveal,
In every moment, in every thought, in all we feel.
As we try to guard, our soul leaks out,
In drips and drabs, in whispers and shouts.
And with every step, we drown with doubts.
What are lies? What is true?
Where to run? What to do?
Who to trust? What to defend?
And how does this mystery end?
As we discern what to let go and protect ,
In this world we try so hard to dissect,
We spy that discovery is hidden,
the final answer we seek is lost; forbidden.
So, with our last heartbeat and final breath,
We find we must love to reach beyond death.
Bad times are coming, and may be already here,
So, bend your back, carry the cross, and prepare to shed a tear.
Good times have come and went, with all the games we played,
We lost our bearing and our hope, as from God we strayed.
Bad times are coming, I am worried that it’s true,
We threaten life and forsake love, with the things we do,
We turn away from nature, and think we rule the world,
It’s a wonder God still loves us, with all the sins we hurled!
Bad times are coming, it is time to take a stand,
We’re off the path, we went astray, in the schemes we planned.
It’s time to stop and listen, to our soul and to our heart,
Before the lies of the deceiver, tears us all apart.