As The Years Go By

As the Years Go By
One hundred years have passed,
A century of turbulence, unrest, and wars,
It was the day when the Virgin’s light
Encircled Fatima then, adorned three small children.

Three children praying their rosary in a field,
Looking after sheep on hilly slopes;
Praying eating, playing, they are-
Trusting, loving, adoring, the lovely lady dressed in blue.

“I’ve come today so you can share
The work I’ve entrusted to your hearts,
To tell the people of the lands
How much their sins have hurt the Lord. “

“Sin is causing all the turmoil
Seen throughout the world
And more destruction is sure to come,”
She adds, “If reparation is not done.”

“Give up the evil in your heart and sacrifice;
Each small deed, it is indeed, a sign of repentance.
Together sacrifice from all,
This will cause a smile upon my son’s façade.

“See here is hell which waits for many; it is to be
A glimpse of eternal pain, which need not be.”
“Save me, save me please,” the traumatized call;
“It is within your power, while you live.”

For quite some time, the world responds-
Their rosary beads, a nightly vigil; man responds-
To find the peace of self, peace of their country, peace of the world.
Too soon forgotten, the rosary prayer fades into the darkened night.

Why, oh why does man forget?
The world out there envelops him;
It’s like a fog that slowly creeps;
It covers all with melismatic glaze.

We are now, children of the children,
United by thoughts of what could be-
Ourselves, our country, our world,
Finding peace, at last, with Thee.

Our beads worn down by fumbling touch;
The prayers cemented within our brain
Repeated nightly, as our melody of love is declared,
Toward the Virgin, dressed in blue.