Soul of Ages

Though you cannot feel it, there is a soft touch and a tender kiss that I will give to you freely... They will linger on longer than these bodies we posess, after we are dust and gone, in this life, their echoes whispering to you in your next...

Pain and sorrow, tonight and the morrow, it will be merely a blink of our eyes... Our beings cry out, pith and marrow, for one another... We cannot see the hands behind our scenes, but they are there, sometimes caring, sometimes rough...

But yet they are there, as ever they have been. Though the weels of time see us to our final rest, it, yet, does not end, know this... As a babe we are born and with wisdom we die, still, our souls, if we listen within some dark night, our souls will hear the echos of their pasts...

Souls of youth and age both we are, youth that we need flesh to comprehend, age that we know it must be and do not cease in our returns to this mortal coil...

Learn and love, here, we do, the sun above beating upon our brow as the stone below strikes upon our soles... Still, to learn and love, that is what it is for... Flesh and bone is but the tools of a soul.