Upon one sleepless hour
a child asked his mother
when peace would come
and what are the names of the days.
Her answer, was a simple reply
with a falling tear and a humble cry.
My son, my son,
they'll be days of sadness
And days of gladness too
Days of heartache,
You'll see butterflies of blue
Painting wildflowers in rainbow hues.
They'll be days of rain,
Days of snow; days of sleet,
Days that frost the grass
With a falling dew.
They'll be days of morning,
And days of darkness
That'll blacken the earth to the edge of the dawn.
They'll be days of war, madness and greed
And worse days than those
When robed riders shadow the sun.
They'll be days for nightmares,
And days of dreams for happy thoughts,
Smiling bright on a summer's afternoon.
They'll be days of emptiness
And days of regret,
Days of sorrow with family losses
One can never forget.
You ask me when peace will come
Among all the days I've listed.
I've not forgotten, those days will fall
Upon your windowseat when your staring With your beloved.
The birds have had their morning fill
Singing songs they know so well.
These'll be the days for peace
And love as well; it's these days
The gods have granted.
For these are the days
Hope gathers around us
And steels our hearts
When there is a gathering storm.
Joel L. Young 2003