Death is only a bad night of sleep*,
the kind where you are sore
and can’t bring yourself to get out of bed
because you can’t see that the rain
will stop or that the light
will come. And you’re tired.
Tired of feeling the same tossing,
tired of waiting for the same tomorrow,
tired of hoping for the same joy.
Death is only a bad night of sleep,
and happiness pours from a pitcher
of iced tea in the summer,
unsweetened.
*Quoted
from this week’s church sermon by Pastor Adam Sinnett
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