On Growing Old

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A time will come to sit
in the shadow of these trees,

shawls on our laps, too old
even to remember our names.

So let's try this. Let's write
"Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy"

on old scraps of paper and fold
them tightly into tiny pills.

For whatever Light awaits us
on the other side, surely

it can't hurt to have some
praises already on our tongues.

From Kiss the Earth When You Pray: The Father Zosima Poems (Apocryphile Press). Copyright 2016 by Robert Hudson. Used by permission.

About the Author

Robert Hudson is an editor at Zondervan/HarperCollins and author of the Christian Writer’s Manual of Style, 4th Edition. Kiss the Earth When You Pray is his first book of poetry.