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Publisher's Letter

Ephemeral Echoes

Posted

In fleeting moments, our lives unfold,
A whisper of time, so brief, so bold.
We gather treasures, build empires high,
Yet dust and shadows claim them, by and by.

What worth are riches, amassed with pride,

When we depart, we leave them glide
The houses of stone, the gold we glean,
Fade into whispers, a forgotten dream.

For in this world, our stay is brief,
A tale of joy, of pain, of grief.

We grasp at moments, clutch to hold,
Yet time slips by, relentless, cold.

We journey onward, beyond the veil,
Where earthly gains cannot prevail.
No wealth or power can cross that gate,

Only care and kindness we create.

So ponder not on what we own,
But on the seeds of care we’ve sown.
For in the end, what truly remains,
Are the hearts we’ve touched, the love that reigns.

Let go of burdens, the worldly chase,
Embrace the light, the higher grace.
For in the end, we all must see,
There’s something more, ‘yond you and me.

And as we leave, with nothing in hand,

We find our place in a promised land.
So live with purpose, love with might,
For what we leave is pure and bright.

PATRICK J. WOOD

PATRICK J. WOOD, Publisher's Letter, Ephemeral Echoes

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