So, shall we drink to the night to celebrate our day of living
or shall we mourn the death of lives now past?
To mourn there is just cause, for once what was is no more.
The tide has turned to change the face of familiar sand to shifting shore.
With the tide comes the night, its underlying promise is of new light.
What lies before this promised light ~ the darkest nights of all?
Torrential rains are good it's said, they nourish the very core.
Prisms of light illuminate the morning yet to come.
The promised light when days are clear and all is understood.
A toast to you ~ those lives now past ~ your parting was with much pain
yet the celebratory days of living are calming the torrid storm.
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