Let me be aware of the treasure you are
Let me not pass you by in quest of
some rare and perfect tomorrow.
Let me hold you while I may,
for it will not always be so.
One day I shall dig my fingers into the earth,
or bury my face in the pillow,
or stretch myself taut,
or raise my hands to the sky,
and want more than all the world, your return.
-Anonymous
(Poem given to me by a friend who today attended the Funeral Mass for Hunter Berry at St Ann Parish in Coppell. Hunter, a Flower Mound 9 year old, died tragically July 16 while on vacation with his family.)