Poetic-journey

The Gray Day

It is a gray day today.

The leaves are still.

No sound of birds

No sign of the sun rays

Death is waving back and forth, waiting to sting

Where should we all go?

Where can we hide?

One sting, no more breath, no more life here on earth

What is this sorrow?

Where does it come from?

The writings explain how meaningless all things are under the sun

The striving of the heart longs for that meaningless thing

How gray is this day

Can anyone perceive the day of death?

Treasures, gains, desires, wants

What is this gray day?

In one second, just like that… ahhhh

The gray day

How quiet you are

How silent are your steps

Clever, precise, on time

Why do you sometimes let yourself be seen?

Why do you like decay?

Do I know you death?

What a gray day it is

Everything is still, no signs of breath

The skies are gray

The clouds are waiting to cry

Who will wipe the tears of this gray day?

Who has the final say on this gray day?

There is that soft and gentle voice

We are so small

When we are touched, we dissipate in the air

Did God take a deep breath?

Her lungs collapse

Her soul longs to go

There is the whisper, "breath out, O soul"

What a gray day

Was the soul touched? Did death have the final say?

"When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where O death is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Imagine! Now there is death.

Swallowed up, overcome by the light

Now I hear voices singing

Now I see the day

You are here, yes, you are here, wonderful day

Where is the gray day?

Where is the sting of death?

On this gray day, death was seen no more.

By Jacqueline Torres