Keep In Mind.

It's almost like sleep has no meaning, it loses its grip on me and leaves me seeing
the light of the world altered by night, as the moon rises high above me tonight.
I'll ask the trees if they ever miss their leaves, if they feel any need to know the concept of greed
beneath the sky turned from the brightest blue into a lamp-black canvas.

The whispering sigh of the wind rushing by, pushing drifts of snow through the streets,
keeps me hopeful when the sun's rising looks millenia away.
And the barren trees still speak to me, despite the lack of leaves: they still sway.
The wind is their voice, and in that wind I hear a fragile voice say:

"If you're terrified of what's to come, because you cannot see around the bends:
keep in mind you're not alone, and at the very least you have someone to hold your hands.
If you're worried that the world won't slow, or you won't be fast enough,
for you to get to where you need to go: keep a level head and keep your chin up.
There's no need to worry about those things over which you have no control;
it happens to everybody: getting overwhelmed, getting sick, getting old.

Keep in mind you are not alone."